


Shadow of the Jedi

by Cal Rand (FireSprayProto)



Series: Remnants [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSprayProto/pseuds/Cal%20Rand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…<br/>In the heat of a the Clone Wars, many hearts sway away from support of the Jedi Knights, guardians of the Republic. The world of Mandalore has become a battleground for the Republic following an occupation by Darth Maul, displacing many. Some Jedi have began to mistrust their place in the war and the Jedi Order as a whole, causing them to take action. After a bombing at the Jedi Temple, Padawan Ahsoka Tano was framed as a traitor to the Republic and the Jedi and was expelled from the order. She then was put on trial where she faced the penalty of death. That is, until the true culprit was brought to justice…<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Built This Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Several decades before, three Jedi Padawans have no idea what their futures will hold in store.

Obi-Wan Kenobi lay almost motionless in his quarters, mindlessly using the Force to lift a small ball up and down in the air. In truth, it was a good exercise for his powers; simple enough that it didn’t require much effort, but still allowing him to not sit idly by for days on end. He watched the red ball rise and fall, in sync with the rise and fall of his bare chest, barely twitching his fingers as he did so.

He’d only been performing the ball exercise for a half hour, but had performed this routine for days. Obi-Wan’s Master, Qui-Gon Jinn had been in continuous meetings with the Jedi Council over a matter that was deemed “classified.” Of course, Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely distraught by the lack of training. It was a relief to have a few days’ break, especially after what he had been through.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had spent a whole year on Mandalore protecting the newly coronated Duchess from a civil war started by the Death Watch, a terrorist group posing as a “Mandalorian-traditionalist group.” During the year, moving from hide-out to hide-out, constantly on the run, Obi-Wan grew close to the Duchess. Though such an attachment was forbidden to Jedi, the lines between duty and personal feelings blurred during Obi-Wan’s time on the war-torn planet. After leaving Mandalore, he did his best to try and forget, but she haunted his very dreams.

Obi-Wan caught the ball in his hand and sat up from his bed. The room was not by any means very large, but he was lucky enough to have received one with an above ground-level window. He stood up and opened the blinds to see that night had fallen on Coruscant. _I swear it was still day out when I sat down,_ he thought.

It didn’t rain on Coruscant often, or in many places across the planet, but Obi-Wan could hear heavy drops of the downpour relentlessly hitting his window. It reminded him of the rain on Mandalore. When he was on the run with the Duchess and Qui-Gon, it had rained for weeks at a time without relent and often the rain would be acid-based. They never had been caught in it, the Duchess knew the planet like the back of her hand and always made sure Obi-Wan had somewhere warm to sleep at night.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh and touched his hand to the glass before he felt a gentle tug on his Padawan braid.

“Quin,” Obi-Wan chuckled as he felt a strong hand clasp his shoulder. The hand was warm against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He must’ve been lying there a long time to become cold enough that Quinlan Vos’ infamously cold hands could provide him with warmth.

Quinlan Vos was Obi-Wan’s cohort-mate and close friend for as long as they lived in the Temple. Obi-Wan could recognize his Force-signature from across the Temple and pinpoint exactly where he was; which is why he always won at hide-and-seek when they were younger.

“You knew I was coming, didn’t you?” Quinlan asked, annoyed that he was unable to take his friend by surprise.

“Indeed I did,” Obi-Wan smiled and put his hand over Quinlan’s, turning around to face him.

Quinlan removed his hand from Obi-Wan and crossed his arms. “That damn predetermination.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Pre _cognition_ , but close enough.”

“Whatever, man,” Quinlan said, rolling his eyes. “I still think my psychometry is better...more impressive.”

“Of course, Quin. You and your object reading. Tell me, can you can you use the power to figure out who owned this ball before I did?” Obi-Wan smirked, levitating the ball inches above his palm.

Quinlan narrowed his eyes and snatched the ball from the airspace above Obi-Wan’s hand. “Of course I can, Kenobi,” he said, determinedly.

As Obi-Wan watched, his mouth tugged into a smirk, Quinlan focused his all of his willpower and concentration on the red ball. Although Quinlan’s ability came naturally to him, like any other Force power, it needed honing and practice.

At first, nothing.

“I don’t need my power to tell what, or who rather, you were thinking about when I walked in here, Obi,” Quinlan smirked, his eyes still closed in focus.

Obi-Wan hushed him. “Want to impress me? Stay focused. Tell me the entire history of that ball.”

Quinlan furrowed his brow and squeezed his eyelids tight. Holding the ball between his ungloved hands, Quinlan began to see a flash of images: a dry pale-colored desert; the soft, tender hands of a woman—her fingernails painted red, half of them chipping—; Obi-Wan, just as Quinlan was seeing him now, perhaps a bit younger— _a year younger? Two? Obi-Wan at sixteen_ —; Qui-Gon Jinn performing the same ball-levitating exercise that Obi-Wan was; Jedi Master Dooku throwing the ball angrily against a wall in the Temple; and finally he saw the hands of a Nautolan woman packaging the ball in a blue cardboard box.

“Master Dooku bought it, gave it to Qui-Gon, who gave it to you, and then you gave it to that Mandalorian chick—but she didn’t keep it, obviously, since you have it,” Quinlan grinned, proud of his accomplishment.

“Consider me impressed, Quin,” Obi-Wan laughed slightly as he took the ball back. At this point, Obi-Wan was sure that if he didn’t force Quinlan to exercise his talent, that it’d never be used.

“What can I say?” Quinlan smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “I aim to please.”

“As always,” Obi-Wan shook his head and put the ball in the footlocker next to his cot. He stretched out his arms above his head and sat back on the cot. “Why the visit, Quin?”

“I couldn’t let my best friend just sit around and mope on his birthday now could I?"

Obi-Wan gulped. There was no good that could come of his birthday and Quinlan's brand of planning together. “My birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Quinlan.”

“Kenobi, what time do you think it is?”

Obi-Wan looked over at the chronometer next to his bed and noticed that six hours had passed since he first laid down. It was now one in the morning. “Oh no,” he said.

“Oh yes,” Quinlan smirked. “It is Primeday of the Festival of Stars. Otherwise known as Obi-Wan Kenobi’s birthday. Outside the existence of months as he was born on the first day of the third festival week between the ninth and the tenth month. During this week we celebrate interstellar travel...and this man, an out-of-this-star-system, kriffing amazing dude.”

Obi-Wan let his face fall into his palms. “I’m going to hear this same thing from Luminara, aren’t I?” he muttered.

“Sure as Malachor you are. Now put on a kriffing shirt—or don’t—and let’s go!”

“Quinlan, it’s late. Can’t we do this tomorrow?” Obi-Wan stood up, protesting.

“First of all Kenobi, it is tomorrow. And no way! Who knows what Tholme and Qui-Gon will make us do after sunrise. For now, this is our, I mean, _your_ night!” Quinlan grinned. “Plus Luminara is already there and we can’t just leave her all alone out in the slums of Coruscant’s undercity.”

“Luminara is a highly capable Jedi, Quin. She could beat either of us in a fight, any day,” Obi-Wan raised his brow.

“Sure,” Quinlan said slowly, trying to think of a rebuttal. “But could she defeat a Sith Lord?!”

“The Sith don’t even exist anymore, Quin,” Obi-Wan reminded him, annoyance in his voice.

“But say they did!”

“I don’t think any of us could defeat a Sith Lord, Quin. We’re just Padawans. It’d take a Council member at least,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. Quinlan was always raving about fantasies of the Sith returning and defeating them single-handedly. “And at any rate, I’m sure Dex will keep her safe. That is where we’re going isn’t it?”

Quinlan’s mouth tugged into a full smirk. “Exactly! Glad you’ve decided to come of your own free will.”

Obi-Wan chuckled and began to make his way over to his footlocker to grab a fresh tunic. “Just let me grab a shirt—”

Quinlan grasped his shoulder, pulling him backwards. “No time for that now, you took up that time asking questions.”

Obi-Wan protested as Quinlan simply threw a cloak around his shoulders. “It’s one in the kriffing morning, Quinlan. It’s going to be cold as Ilum out there.”

“You chose your fate, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now come on, let’s go and hope Madame Jocasta doesn’t catch us,” Quinlan smirked as he pushed Obi-Wan out into the hallway.

It wasn’t that Padawans weren’t allowed to leave the Temple. Though it was somewhat of an unspoken respectfulness that Padawans would always notify their Masters when they left the Temple. Even Senior Padawans and especially in the middle of the night. Though, afterall, it was Obi-Wan’s birthday.

*

Luminara Unduli sat in the corner booth of Dex’s Diner, mindlessly swirling her straw around the interior of her blue-milk milkshake. She had been waiting for her friends to arrive—or at least for Quinlan to contact her over comlink—for thirty minutes. It figured that it had been Luminara’s idea from the beginning and she had to be the one to hold the table at Dex’s.

Her stomach began to make noise that was audible from several feet away, turning the head of one of the only two other patrons in the diner. Luminara offered him a polite smile and turned her attention to her noisy stomach, trying to focus on silencing it.

She hadn’t eaten dinner that night—after being prompted by Quinlan—so that she’d have a healthy appetite for Obi-Wan’s birthday celebration. Now she was beginning to regret that decision as her stomach felt as if it might devour itself.

A WA-7 waitress droid, FLO, rolled over Luminara with her hands on her metal hips. “Hun, are you gonna order anything else?” she asked in a slightly annoyed, but primarily concerned tone. Perhaps she had heard Luminara’s stomach.

“Not right now, I’m still waiting on my friends,” Luminara said for the fourth time that night. She was going to tie Quinlan down when he got there so that only she and Obi-Wan could eat.

“Hun I ain’t sure if your _friends_ are even comin’. I think you been stood up,” FLO said, shaking her head. “We may be open twenty-four hours a day but some of us have some cel’bratin to do for the festival! And by some, I mean I,” she pointed at herself, “have to prepare the restaurant for the flood of beings that gon’ come here wantin’ food.”

Luminara couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle. It didn’t take much to rile up a waitress droid, but FLO was a special one. “Give me a few moments with the menu? I might find something…”

“I hope so,” FLO said and rolled off into the kitchen.

Luminara slumped back against the booth and noticed that she had been subconsciously spinning the straw with the Force. Once realizing, she stopped. It wasn’t that she didn’t want people knowing she was a Jedi, but if someone did recognize her as a Jedi, she didn’t want her Master to learn she was out at this hour. Somehow those kind of things always got back to the masters—like the time Quinlan manipulated Obi-Wan into using his precognition to place pod racing bets. Their Masters were not pleased.

Staring at the menu, she couldn’t make out what half of the items on it were. After reading the description for Nos Monster Ribs—a dish consisting of the ribs of a Nos monster from the planet Utapau where they were eaten raw by the native Pau'an species—she put the menu down.

After another gurgle from her stomach and the Cathar man sitting at the bar turned around. “Could you keep that thing quiet?” he asked, in a demanding tone.

Luminara nodded and the man turned away. She let out a sigh and racked her brain on what she could possibly eat here. It wasn’t the first time she had eaten at Dex’s, but it was the first time without Quinlan or Obi-Wan. And they usually ordered for her.

Then she had an idea.

Instead of continuing to try and make sense of Dex’s menu, Luminara reached into her headdress—a white variant of her usual Mirialan headdress, worn along with a special set of white Jedi robes for celebration—and pulled out a military-grade ration bar. (Quinlan had joked before about sneaking them into Luminara’s clothing). She hadn’t noticed it when she put it on earlier that evening, but welcomed the surprise if it meant she didn’t have to decipher what _L'lahsh-marinated nutrient globes_ were.  
Luminara unwrapped the ration bar, quickly made sure FLO couldn’t see her, and took a bite out of it. The bar tasted of an odd mixture of dirt, dried meiloorun fruit, and blue cheese. She swallowed the bite she had taken but quickly wrapped up the rest and put it on the booth beside her.

Military ration-bars were usually only used by Jedi as a last resort on extensive training or undercover missions. In cases of war, Jedi would consume them just the same as regular troops. At least that’s what they history-holos told Luminara. She hoped that there’d never be an outbreak of war, because she didn’t believe she could ever survive on such ‘food’.

Then FLO came rolling along again. “Decide yet, honey?”

Luminara bit her lip and shrugged. If Dex served it it was probably edible. “I’ll have the special, please,” she said, timidly.  
“One Manaan slider coming up!” the droid announced, rolling back to the kitchen.

Luminara hoped that the slider wasn’t actually Selkath. She doubted it, but supposed anything was possible. She also doubted Dex took extra measures to know exactly what meat he bought at the market. If she were to eat a sentient species from a planet that had representation in the Senate, she hoped at least it’d be drowned in some type of sauce.

As Luminara considered her impending meal, a Togruta woman arose from the booth in front of her and took credits out of her pocket, leaving them on the table.

“Thanks darling! Come again!” FLO yelled, poking her head out from the viewport between the bar and the kitchen.

“Oh I would,” the Togruta woman said. “Only I’ve got to go to my home planet. I’ve become pregnant and my parents would like me to be home.” Luminara couldn’t fathom what would incline the woman to tell a droid that. Though perhaps she was merely trying to make conversation with  _someone._ She had already been sitting alone when Luminara arrived forty-five minutes prior.

“Come back once you’ve had the little darling!” FLO exclaimed.

“Alright, Flo. I promise, when the child is a little older, I’ll come back,” the Togruta said and waved at the droid. On her way out the door, two cloaked humans passed her—Obi-Wan Kenobi and Quinlan Vos.

As soon as they entered, Luminara let her curious smile drop into a pissed-off scowl. She crossed her arms and almost immediately the straw in the glass of now-melted, blue-milk milkshake began to make circles again.

“Sorry we’re late, had to directly avoid Master Dooku. He was leaving the library when we left,” Quinlan said, sitting down next to Luminara.

“Which means he knows you were up and about,” Luminara said, not turning to face Quinlan.

“But does he _know_ ,” Quinlan grinned, putting his arm around Luminara.

She rolled her eyes and promptly removed his arm from her. “I doubt he’ll alert anyone but there’s that chance…”

“It’s not exactly against the rules for us to be out, Lumy. Just because _your Master_ is a stick in the mud doesn’t mean Tholme and Qui-Gon are,” Quinlan said, crossing his own arms.

Luminara’s brows came together. In fact, her Master was the least strict of the three Masters. Having been the first student he’d taken on since leaving the Temple Guard, Luminara was somewhat of a pufferpig for his teachings. “My Master is not a stick in the mud, he is a very respected Mirialan Jedi Maste—”

“—Who is a stick in the mud,” Quinlan interjected, smirking.

Luminara shook her head and rose her gaze to look at Obi-Wan—the first time since he sat down across from them. “Obi-Wan, why in the blazes are you not wearing a shirt? It’s cold as Ilum out there…”

“I suppose Quin thought it’d be funny,” Obi-Wan said, bitterly and holding back a shiver.

“Oh you’ve got a cloak on, don’t be a baby,” Quinlan said, making a dismissive motion with his hand. “Besides, what’s a birthday without your birthday suit!”

“I don’t think we want a repeat of your birthday, Quin,” Obi-Wan stated, pulling his cloak tighter around him.

“At least Kenobi and I were able to settle that bet.”

“It was a very close call,” Obi-Wan muttered.

“Want to test that theory again?” Quinlan suggested with a sly smirk on his face.

“Oh no,” Luminara said, raising her hands in protest, “I am not going out looking for another holo-ruler while you two cause a scene by dropping your pants.”

“Oh it was one time. And it wasn’t that bad,” Quinlan shrugged his shoulders.

“It was only a month ago Quin! They put up our pictures on the ‘DO NOT ADMIT’ board. I think that constitutes as bad,” Luminara pointed out, holding back a chuckle. “We’re barred from that bar.”

“Funny, Luminara,” Quinlan rolled his eyes. “At least the Masters didn’t find out.”

“Yet,” she pointed out.

Obi-Wan chuckled at the banter and shivered slightly. “Well I’ll be keeping my clothes on this evening—at least the ones I still have.”

“It’s morning, pal,” Quinlan said, putting his arms behind his head.

Obi-Wan shook his head and let out a brief yawn as FLO wheeled over with a steaming plate in her hand.

“Manaan sliders with extra Ahto City cheese and Selkathian seaweed and a side of Flangth fries,” FLO said as she put the food-board down in front of Luminara. “Anything for you hunnies?” FLO asked, the question directed at Obi-Wan and Quinlan.

“We’ll need a minute. Thanks, FLO,” Obi-Wan said, taking the menus FLO handed to him. The droid nodded and rolled away.  
“You ordered without us?” Quinlan asked, appearing genuinely hurt.

“You were,” she looked at the chrono on the wall, “forty-five minutes late, Quin. I wasn’t about to starve.”

“It’s fine, Quin. I’m glad she did,” Obi-Wan chuckled and handed Quinlan a menu. “A good Flanfth fry will warm me right up,” he said, reaching across the table to grab a fry. He looked to Luminara for permission.

“Just take the damn thing,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. “What’s mine is yours, as always.”

Obi-Wan smiled and took a handful, eliciting a small sound of protest from his friend, but not enough to stop him from stuffing the food into his mouth. As the hot food made it’s way down Obi-Wan’s throat, he could feel the warmth spread throughout his upper chest, bringing a smile to his face.

Luminara smiled and took a few fries herself and ate them, hesitant to pick up one of the three Manaan sliders. “Feel free to go after them as well,” she offered.

Quinlan needed no further coaxing before he had practically inhaled one of the sliders.

Luminara looked appalled. “Quin, you can’t just inhale something like that, you might choke!”

Quinlan’s mouth tugged into a smirk. “You didn’t seem so worried about that when you—”

“—Quin shut up,” she interjected, kicking him under the table.

Quinlan let out a squeal of pain as Obi-Wan looked up from his menu, his eyes widened.

“You didn’t,” Obi-Wan said, shocked and holding back laughter.

“Oh but we did! A few times while you were on Mandalore...”

“Quin!” Luminara’s eyes went wide and the straw in her glass began to spin at a rapid pace.

“By the Force,” Obi-Wan began to let his laughter through as he lowered his menu.

“It’s true what they say about Mirialans,” Quinlan started, “they’re very flexible.” And with that, the glass on the table shattered, sending fragments of glass and splotches of melted blue-milk milkshake everywhere.

Obi-Wan now had a hard time containing his laughter, even despite the small glass cuts on his ear and chest.

Luminara looked mortified as she buried her face in her hands. “It only happened three times, Quin. THREE,” she reminded him. “And it won’t happen again.”

After a few minutes laughter, Obi-Wan was finally able to recompose himself. “Welcome to the club, Luminara.”

“So you did _make contact_ with your Mandalorian Duchess,” Luminara brought a small chuckle out of herself and lightly tapped Obi-Wan’s ankle with her foot.

“Something like that,” Obi-Wan said, his cheeks beginning to flush.

“More than something, Kenobi,” Quinlan said, pulling Obi-Wan’s lightsaber out from his wrist-holster.

“How did you ge—” Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide. Somehow Quinlan had managed to slip it from him. But how? He was always so careful with it. Qui-Gon had drilled the practice into his head: _this weapon is your life, don’t lose it._

“She held it. You even offered to let her keep it,” Quinlan announced, using his psychometry powers to see the recent history of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.

“That’s enough, Quin,” Obi-Wan said, becoming unnerved.

“Oh please do continue, Quin,” Luminara said, smirking. Payback.

“You even kept it on your belt while you—why you kinky sun of a hutt,” Quinlan smirked. Before he could continue his reading, Obi-Wan snatched the weapon from his hands and hooked it on his belt.

“I wanted to hear more about your admittance to this _club_ of yours,” Luminara protested.

“Personally, Kenobi, I thought you meant admittance to the club of people that have slept with _me_ ,” Quinlan said, unashamedly.  
It was now Obi-Wan’s turn to be mortified. His entire face and upper chest flushed red as Luminara burst into a fit of laughter never before seen by either of her friends.

“What did we blame it on? Adolescent experimentation?” Quinlan recalled, propping his chin up with his hand. “Sorry Lumi, but Kenobi’s got ya beat in that department.”

Obi-Wan’s head hit the table with a thud and Luminara began to stifle her laughter. She tenderly reached out her hand and rubbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder. It was then she noticed the Cathar man at the bar had left and they were the only three patrons left in the diner.  
“Though you handle a lightsaber better,” Quinlan added before receiving a punch in the arm from Luminara. “Ouch—I meant actual combat training not my lightsaber.”

Luminara frowned and narrowed her eyes at Quinlan before turning her attention to Obi-Wan. “Quite the club we have going here, Obi.”

Obi-Wan slowly raised his head, pretending as if the preceding conversation didn’t happen, as FLO rolled back over.  
“What’ll it be, boys?” FLO asked.

Quinlan ordered, “Three Yowvetch custard-filled donuts,” and flashed his signature grin.

“And you, hun?” FLO asked, pointing her finger at Obi-Wan.

Before he could begin to form an answer, Quinlan beat him to it. “He’ll be having the zoochberry cobbler and Denta bean ice cream with nineteen candles.”

“Please,” Obi-Wan added.

“Dentazooch and three fyyow’s comin’ right up!” FLO announced before rolling to the kitchen to put in the order.

Luminara smiled in admiration at her friends’ bravery to eat things from Dex’s menu she could hardly even sound out. On her left, Quinlan was having himself a grand time. Never once did he let his smirk fall for longer than a few seconds and it seemed he always had another joke or wisecrack up his sleeve. Though across from her, she could see Obi-Wan now beginning to force his laughter at Quinlan’s joke.—The auburn color of his hair made it even more apparent how pale he was. Perhaps it was the cold or the synthetic light that reduced the pigment of Obi-Wan’s skin. Luminara recalled his skin usually exhibiting a pinkish-bronze color. Examining her own skin, it resembled more of a grassy green in the harsh lighting than its actual olive color. While Quinlan maintained his healthy tan glow—When Obi-Wan sighed at a joke Quinlan made about Master Windu (quite a clever one too) she knew something was up.

“Obi-Wan,” she started, cutting Quinlan off mid-punchline, “are you alright?”

Obi-Wan turned his head to look out the window. “Yeah, fine,” he said, solemnly.

“You’re not down and out about the Mando chick again are you?” Quinlan asked with the smallest tinge of actual concern.

“Her name was _Satine_ , not ‘mando chick,’” Obi-Wan said, bitterly.

Luminara then saw Quinlan’s smirk drop into a resting neutral position. It stayed that way until FLO brought out his and Obi-Wan’s food.

With the candles in place and lit, Quinlan and Luminara looked at each other and began to sing a rendition of the Wookiee Life Day song _Tree of Life_ —quite terribly—to lighten Obi-Wan’s spirits. Obi-Wan’s mouth involuntarily pulled itself into a smile and he shook his head.

“Stop singing and I’ll blow them out,” Obi-Wan said, chuckling breathily.

They stopped their serenade and he blew out his candles. Nineteen of them. Luminara reached across the table and blew out the last one, a smirk on her face as she did.

Obi-Wan and Quinlan began to make quick work of their food, signalling to Luminara that the substances were edible at the very least.

“Did either of you hear…” Luminara started, extending her arm to grab a fork full of Obi-Wan’s cobbler.

“Hear what?” Quinlan asked. “Something go down in the Temple and _I_ didn’t know about it?”

“You’re not exactly the listening type, Quin. I mean your natural ability is to discover what happened—after the fact,” Obi-Wan reminded him while taking a large bite of his cobbler.

“Hey…” Quinlan crossed his arms and did his best to make a face that Luminara figured was supposed to be a pout, but to her seemed more like he was in desperate need of a laxative.

“As I was saying,” she continued, “Master Sifo-Dyas was ‘removed’ from the Council.”

Neither of the male Padawans were surprised by this. Sifo-Dyas was known for his more _radical_ ideas on how the Jedi should run and how they should be affiliated with the Republic. Obi-Wan’s interest was however sparked as he had heard rumours of his Master being chosen for the next empty seat.

“Rumour has it, they’re looking to appoint Master Jinn,” she said.

And there it was; Obi-Wan’s greatest fear. While it was a great honor to sit on the Council—one of the highest honors a Jedi could receive—the three had only speculations of how the Council worked. Sifo-Dyas had sat on the Council for almost a decade and only sporadically mentioned his different opinions. Obi-Wan had expressed that he believed Qui-Gon wouldn’t last a week due to his Master’s own thoughts independant that of the Council.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Obi-Wan requested in a whispered voice. Luminara knew he hadn’t told her and Quinlan everything that Qui-Gon had shared with him. And he probably didn’t wish to get into an entire conversation about Jedi/Republic philosophy at the moment. Not on his birthday.

“Alright,” Quinlan said. He reached across the table and pulled one of Obi-Wan’s hands into his; his right hand holding Luminara’s. “Let’s talk about the future,” he said. “I predict that in nineteen years, when you have doubled in age, Kenobi, that the three of us will all sit on the Council. Bring some sense to it.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but join in on Quinlan’s vision, “and we’ll each have trained a Padawan into Knighthood that is an exceptional member of the order. Each one of them will embody all that a Jedi can or ever will be.” He grinned and reached out his remaining open hand to join with Luminara’s.

Naturally, Luminara joined in as well. “And they’ll carry our legacies,” she said, squeezing the hands of her friends. “They’ll be the Jedi responsible for ending all war and conflict. They will be heroes and bring all criminals to fair trial. While we sit in the Council chambers of the Temple, our Padawans and Grand-Padawans—” Obi-Wan and Quinlan chuckled at the term “—will be an army of peace, fighting for the light side and holding it dear in their hearts. With our legacies, the Republic will never fail throughout all time.”

FLO then rolled up to the table and put down their bill. “Credits or card?”

The Padawan trio broke their circle of hands and each turned out their pockets, finding no currency within them.

“Put it on our tab?” Quinlan requested.

“Sure thing darling,” FLO answered. “Twenty-point-two credits have been added to your unpaid tab balance of five-hundred, eighty-three-point-four credits. You now have six-hundred and three-point-six unpaid credits.”

Luminara shook her head. “And our future Padawans will always carry credits with them.”


	2. Fallen From the Light

 

It seemed that the Force itself was targeting Obi-Wan. His GrandPadawan was on trial for sedition against the Jedi Order and the Republic and if found guilty—faced the penalty of death. Where had he gone wrong? Had it been training of his own Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, that led to this? Was Ahsoka _his_ failure? Or Anakin’s?

Neither, he decided. He didn’t believe Ahsoka was guilty. It was impossible for him to even conceive such a notion, even though there was considerable evidence against her. Obi-Wan didn’t want to consider the if-factor of her being guilty— _no_ ; someone was setting her up. Someone powerful.

Asajj Ventress was the popular candidate for the blame, though Obi-Wan had a hard time believing she was guilty either. Ventress might have been selfish and an ex-war criminal, but after helping Obi-Wan escape the clutches of Darth Maul, he didn’t believe she could do such a thing as bombing the Jedi Temple. Even if she did blame them for the death of her Master. It had to be someone else, Obi-Wan and the rest of the Council merely couldn’t think of who.

Obi-Wan wasn’t required to attend the trial. Most of the Council, however, did—on Obi-Wan’s left from left to right were Jedi Masters Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, Ki-Adi Mundi, Mace Windu and Yoda. On his right was Master Plo Koon. Masters Shaak Ti, Coleman Kcaj, Eeth Koth and Oppo Rancissis had stayed behind in the Temple for various reasons—and Obi-Wan was among them. Officially, no other Jedi besides the Council were allowed into the trial. He was sure Anakin would make an appearance but was shocked to find he hadn’t been the first one in the Jedi’s balcony.

It would be just like Anakin to make a grand entrance and disrupt the proceedings.

Nothing like this had ever happened before to Obi-Wan’s memory. Various Jedi were expelled or exiled from the Order for various reasons, but none had faced trial with penalty of death. Obi-Wan had _friends_ on the Council, though none he considered as close as Anakin and his fellow cohort members: Luminara and Quinlan. Quinlan was off-planet at the time, investigating what he described to Obi-Wan as “a tremor in the Force—man,” and had gone off-radar. Alternatively, Luminara was preparing her own Padawan, Barriss Offee, to take her Knighthood trials later that night. Though after some pleading, he convinced her to join him at the trial. Arriving late as the jury was beginning to deliberate, Luminara stayed in the frame of the door that led to the Jedi’s balcony. Her view was limited to floating platforms where she could see Senator Padmé Amidala, Ahsoka, and Captain Wilhuff Tarkin.

“The members of the court have reached a decision.”

Obi-Wan’s heart pounded as Supreme Chancellor Palpatine began to read off the verdict. This would be it. Either Ahsoka would be found not-guilty, come back into the Order, and eventually, they could forget all of this. Or she would be found guilty and be executed—in which case Obi-Wan would never be able to forgive himself, or even fathom asking for Anakin’s.

_Anakin._

“Chancellor,” Anakin announced as he came into the room.

Obi-Wan had no idea what Anakin was up to or where he was taking this. Though he prolonged the verdict for now—which only created more tension in the room. Obi-Wan’s heart continued to pound—unlike those beside him—and he could sense the tension rising in Ahsoka. He admired her composition. For most of the trial she remained poised and collected—the sign of a true Jedi in politics.

“—Barriss Offee, member of the Jedi Order—and traitor.”

Everything seemed to stop around Obi-Wan—around the whole Council. It was as if even in light of the truth, the Dark Side was at this very moment clouding their vision.

After exchanging looks with the rest of the present Council, Obi-Wan brought a hand up to cup his chin. He had almost covered his mouth with the hand, but thought it best to show as little exterior emotion as possible. Obi-Wan was stunned.

“Barriss? Is that true?” Obi-Wan heard Ahsoka say. It sounded so distant in his ears. Like an echo.

Anakin’s voice was much clearer and demanding, “Tell them the truth.” It cut straight through the blur Obi-Wan was facing.

And then Barriss spoke, "I did it. Because I've come to realize what many people in the Republic have come to realize—that the Jedi are the ones responsible for this War. That we've so lost our way that we have become villains in this conflict, that we are the ones that should be put on trial, all of us!” Obi-Wan let his face fall into a frown. It was hard to admit, but there was truth to her words. They also seemed like words straight from Dooku’s mouth. “And my attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become: an army fighting for the dark side, fallen from the light that we once held so dear. This Republic is failing! It's only a matter of time."

Once Barriss had finished speaking, she stood looking straight ahead at the holocam that was covering the trial. She didn’t look at the Council or Anakin. Obi-Wan couldn’t be sure if she had made eye contact with Ahsoka. Though based on the Togruta’s maintained composer, he was sure they hadn’t.

“Take her away,” the Supreme Chancellor ordered. The four Jedi Temple Guards who were escorting Barriss then proceeded to do so

Obi-Wan could sense the turmoil within Ahsoka. It seemed as if it did not even begin to occur to her that all charges against her had been dropped. Several meters away, he could feel her heart sink low as she watched Barriss left the court chamber. Obi-Wan couldn’t fathom the thought of being betrayed in such a way. Barriss had been Ahsoka’s best friend. If Quinlan or Anakin ever—Obi-Wan couldn’t even finish the thought, it was too painful.

Ahsoka provided a small acknowledging smile to Anakin and then turned away from him to thank her Padmé for being her defense.

Obi-Wan was sure that like him, Ahsoka had hung on to every single one of Barriss’ words. Had the Jedi truly fallen from the light? The keepers of the peace now led military units across star systems, devastating the worlds there. Obi-Wan had observed so much corruption in the Senate. _Is the Republic failing?_ he thought. The Jedi seemed to be failing in terms of keeping people safe. Was this their failure?—that they couldn’t see a traitor in their midst. An entire Council of who should be the ten most powerful Force users in the galaxy could not sense that Ahsoka was innocent. _If the Jedi could allow for something like this to happen; for Barriss, for Dooku_ — he dashed the thoughts from his mind. This was not the time for sorrow. Ahsoka was innocent— and he and Anakin would not have to stage a prison-break.

Surely the Council would vote to allow Ahsoka back into the Order. There was no question in the matter. What they would do with Barriss, Obi-Wan couldn’t be sure of. Seeing the brutality Ahsoka was faced with, he certainly would not vote to subject Barriss to that.

Obi-Wan was still dumfounded. Of all the Jedi Obi-Wan had ever met, Barriss was one of the most gentle, well-mannered and talented in both healing techniques and lightsaber dueling. Before the war, when Anakin was a Padawan, the pair had spent an exceptional amount of time working alongside Barriss and her Master.

It suddenly occurred to Obi-Wan that _Luminara’s Padawan_ was the one responsible for the Temple bombing. He turned his head quickly to the side to find that his long time friend was no longer standing in the doorway.

*

Luminara couldn’t even process the thought to breathe as she hastily descended the stairs from the Jedi’s balcony into a hallway. Making her way through a series of hallways, she brushed past debating Senators and staring clone onlookers. Once she made her way into the mezzanine, she took hold of the bottom of her black robes—so as to not trip over them—and quickly made her way down the main staircase.

 _This was not how this was supposed to happen,_ she thought. _Ventress should’ve been guilty and Barriss should be a Knight and_ —no more thoughts. Luminara could only remain focused on her objective:

_Get to Barriss._

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, there was no lack of clone patrols to stare at her as Luminara exited the Republic Military Base and ran past the First Battle Memorial. She paid them no attention. They were breaking military formalities by stopping and looking. Everyone was stopping and looking. But Luminara was solely focused.

_Get to Barriss._

Finally, she caught up with her fallen apprentice.

Barriss, flanked by several clones and temple guards, raised her head to look at her Master. She did not smile or show any sign of regret or sorrow. Luminara hadn’t felt anger in years. She was trained not to feel such an emotion.

_There is no emotion_

Luminara could feel Barriss reaching out telepathically. Something they had only recently begun training to do. The technique was to keep them close as Barriss became a Knight, took on her own apprentice and brought peace across the galaxy without her Master by her side.

 _"I am right_ ," Luminara heard in a whisper-like voice.

She did not respond; she could not respond. (She was not even sure whether it was Barriss speaking to her or her subconscious trying to alleviate the situation).

Barriss was ordered to turn away from the door, but stole one final glance at her Master before the doors slid shut on the LATT/i gunship that carried her away to alternative GAR prison where she would await her sentence. Under normal circumstances, she would have been kept at the facility in which the trial had taken place. Due to Ahsoka’s recent escape, the clones took Barriss to the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center.

Luminara stared with a stoic face as the gunship whisked away into the distance. Mere hours ago, Barriss was preparing to take the trials to become a Knight. And now her future was uncertain.

_There is no emotion_

Thinking about the situation in its raw state was not an option for Luminara. She continued her mantra, the Jedi Code, over and over in her head. Was it minutes? Perhaps. Several of them. Enough time for the clones to continue on their marches. Enough time for Luminara to become so engrossed in her meditation that she did not sense an approach from behind.

A hand placed itself on Luminara’s shoulder. Startled, she drew her hilt from her belt.

“It’s alright,” a familiar voice said. (Obi-Wan, she determined.) Luminara removed her fellow Jedi’s hand from her shoulder and placed her hilt back on her belt.

She could’ve laughed in his face. “No, it most certainly is not alright,” she stated. Luminara’s face turned to sorrow and regret as she looked at Obi-Wan. She’d been prepared to let her student go, but not like this.

Moments later, she could see the rest of the Council walking past the monument. Not far behind them were Skywalker, Senator Amidala and Ahsoka. The last thing Luminara wanted to do was to cross paths with Skywalker. (That was a lie. The last thing she wanted to do was admit her Padawan had fallen to the darkside.) Skywalker had been so passionate about his Padawan on Geonosis; now he would be filled with anger. She could sense it, _feel it,_ even several dozen meters away.

“The Council will wish to speak with me.”

“I believe under the circumstances, you would be correct,” Obi-Wan noted.

Luminara let out a deep sigh. To fully process all of this, she would need time alone. “I will return to the Temple then. You may find me in my quarters when they are ready for me,” Luminara said and turned away from Obi-Wan and the rest of the Jedi. “Nothing happens to her without my knowledge, understood?” her voice quivered, but her resolve was strong. She had learned long ago how to keep her emotions under control in most Jedi’s presence. Somehow with Obi-Wan, her wall began to fade. Perhaps it was their history. Perhaps it was the circumstance.

“I will keep you notified.”

“Thank you,” Luminara said softly as she began walking to her speeder transport—which was parked in the airfield, several meters in front of the prison. She needed to get away, far away, from Obi-Wan, Barriss, everyone. She needed to be alone and needed to meditate. She needed something that couldn’t be obtained. Luminara needed Barriss to be innocent.

*

The Council meeting should have been a swift one. Instead, they all sat in silence for the better part of an hour until Ki-Adi Mundi spoke up. As soon as the Ceran Master began to open his mouth, Obi-Wan could already tell he would not like where this was going.

“I believe we know what is to be done. We must immediately expel Padawan Offee from the Order,” Ki-Adi Mundi suggested.

Obi-Wan’s prediction was correct; he didn’t like where this was going.

“Do you believe that is entirely wise, Master? Perhaps we are being too rash with this decision,” the Nautolan Master, Kit Fisto responded.

“We were quick to judge Ahsoka and were mistaken. While Barriss did admit to the crime, I believe we should keep this Jedi-internal. Bring her back here and deal with it on our own terms,” the Kel Dor Master, Plo Koon said.

Obi-Wan was a fan of that idea. Ahsoka had been one of them and they gave her up to the Republic courts to kill...they couldn’t do the same to Barriss. It wasn’t the nature of the Jedi to kill prisoners—or let them be killed.

“Tarkin was right! We’d seem biased! And what shall we do about the Ventress of it all,” Ki-Adi said.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, amplifying the sound with the Force. “Masters, I believe it is in our best interest to decide the fate of Padawan Offee at a later time _with_ Master Unduli present.” There was a mix of murmurs and silent eye-contact exchanges between the other Council members.  “After all, she may be able to shed some light on the matter. For now we should focus on Padawan Tano,” Obi-Wan stated. The other Council members nodded in agreement.

“I do not see any reason to not let her back into the Order. It is now clear that this ordeal was indeed the Padawan’s Great Trial,” Mace Windu proclaimed.

While Obi-Wan knew Plo agreed with letting her back into the Order, he could sense the tension in the Kel Dor after Windu’s words. He felt a disturbance in the air around his chair—perhaps it was his own discomfort with Windu’s words. The Clone War had proved to set many alternative means of achieving Knighthood for Jedi. Though this was a stretch...

“I would even go as far to say she has shown the promise and skill of a true Jedi and should be promoted to the rank of Knight effective immediately,” Plo Koon offered.

“I don’t see a reason to not promote her,” Kit Fisto said, crossing his legs. “Ahsoka is a true Jedi.” He flashed his signature smile. “She’s ready to become a Knight.”

“She is but a child! She has been a Padawan for only two and a half years. A girl of sixteen could not possibly become a Jedi Knight,” Saesee Tiin proclaimed. “And Skywalker is not ready or deserving to become a Jedi Master.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at Master Tiin, but kept silent. It wasn’t that Obi-Wan agreed or disagreed, though he thought the Ikotoch Master could have expressed his opinion in a more diplomatic fashion.

“They are both very unorthodox Jedi, but their methods have proven successful on and off the battlefield. Skywalker was knighted when he was nineteen, young for human age. Master Unduli was knighted when she was eighteen and became a Master at twenty-seven. We were prepared to knight Padawan Offee and she is nineteen years of age,” the Zabrak Master Eeth Koth pointed out.

“Would it be wise to place a student under her? Knights are to train Padawans, but when the Padawan could be the same age as her, who determines rank?” Ki-Adi Mundi exclaimed.

Obi-Wan honestly was beginning to wish he didn’t sit on this Council. Putting in his own input seemed biased as they were discussing his Grand-Padawan, though she needed all the help she could get up against Ki-Adi Mundi’s negativity.

“She has experience. Ahsoka has seen and done so much more in her Padawanship than I ever could have dreamed in my knighthood,” Kit Fisto offered up.

 _Kit, always a saving grace._  Obi-Wan offered a smiled at the Nautolan Master. It was true. Ahsoka had been through much that Obi-Wan wasn’t sure even some members of the Council could have survived through; namely Mortis and the Citadel. She had even survived on Trandosha as prey and led others to survive.  

“She still has much to learn. Under further guidance from Skywalker focused solely on passing the trials, I believe Ahsoka would be ready to face the remaining trials in mere months and then we shall see if she is truly prepared,” the Togruta Master, Shaak Ti responded — via hologram from the _Crucible_ en route to Kamino.  The Council responded with support.

“The trials shall make our decision, as they always have,” Obi-Wan said. He was beginning to believe Ahsoka was entirely deserving. She persevered through prosecution by her own people and came out the better for it. Anakin had been knighted young, though the war provided opportunity for him. Ahsoka was just the same.

“Take the trials remaining, young Ahsoka will. And then, perhaps a Jedi Knight she shall be,” Yoda smiled.

“Summon Skywalker and young Tano,” Windu said, gesturing his hand towards Obi-Wan.

“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan said, while rising out of his seat. He strode over to the door and exited the Council chambers. Once the door shut behind him he let out a heavy breath. _Where could they be,_ he thought, making note of Anakin and Ahsoka’s absence from the waiting chamber. He made his way to the lift and pressed the down button on the panel. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took several deep breaths while waiting.

 _Did the past few days actually happen,_ he contemplated.

After a few minutes, the turbolift finally arrived. When the doors opened and Obi-Wan opened his eyes he was slightly stunned to find Luminara waiting for him.

“Ahsoka just arrived. Skywalker is on his way here with her. I came to notify you,” Luminara spoke rather quickly, stepping out of the elevator. Obi-Wan could sense worry behind Luminara’s calm facade.

“Thank you Luminara,” he smiled gently. She bowed her head and began to turn around. “We’ve postponed our discussion on Barriss until after we speak to Anakin and Ahsoka. I recommended we should have you present for the discussion, the Council agreed.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. I deeply appreciate it,” she gave a small, thankful smile and activated the down button on the lift panel. The door opened rather immediately and she stepped inside, turning to give a small bow to Obi-Wan and then closing the door.

*

Luminara let out a breathy sigh and pressed the button to take her down to the main level of the temple. She couldn’t make sense of what had just transpired. Only hours ago she left the temple under the impression that when she returned, Barriss would’ve passed her trials and become a Jedi Knight. She was right in a way: Barriss was no longer a Padawan — though the Council had yet to determine that. Luminara braced herself with a railing, feeling as if she was going to fall over.

When the elevator doors opened, the adjacent hallway was dimly lit. Luminara collected herself and walked out of the lift into the medium-sized lobby room. She folded her hands behind her back and walked into the hallway. It seemed to Luminara that as the Dark Side was clouding the vision of the Jedi, the temple itself was becoming darker. She rounded a corner and could now see down into the mezzanine of the temple. As she walked on the open balcony, Luminara began to notice her fellow Jedi staring at her.

 _It's almost as if they think I'm responsible_ , she thought.

More and more eyes began to turn and look at the Mirialan Master from below. She didn't know where she was headed yet, but quickened her pace nonetheless. When Luminara brought her attention forward, away from the onlookers, she saw Anakin and Ahsoka approaching her. Anakin had his head turned, speaking to Ahsoka. Luminara presumed he was telling her of his duel and capture of Barriss—it seemed such a duel was inevitable between the two, the only surviving members of the same Jedi cohort. Ahsoka seemed to not be listening and rolled her heavy, tired eyes forward. Luminara and Ahsoka made brief eye contact, the latter swallowing hard.

Before Skywalker could raise his head, Luminara ducked into the next available hallway. This one led to a staircase. She walked briskly down it and turned left into the hallway at the bottom. When she reached the end of the hallway, she made another left and then went down another staircase, ending up in the main lobby of the temple. She decided perhaps waiting in her quarters would be the best idea, so that no one would raise questions to her. Luminara brought her hands down to her sides and walked with her head high across the lobby. She was determined to not be confronted by anyone outside the Council for the time being.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sisters, Master Tiplee and Tiplar staring at her. Both had disdain smeared on their faces. She paid them no further attention and entered the hallway leading to the dormitories. These hallways were clear; it seemed everyone had convened in one way or another to talk about Barriss.

Luminara walked for seemingly endless time, doing her best to only focus on the ground immediately ahead of her. It wasn't until she saw the broken glass across the floor that she realized what section of the dorms she was in. She walked slowly, as if she were walking across a frozen lake. She felt sick when she saw the smashed window. No one had been by yet to rope off the section of the window. Luminara approached the edge and looked down onto the ground where Barriss and Anakin's duel had ended. She heard the two had interrupted a youngling training session, leaving the area vacated.

Luminara thought it was a shame, that a grove meant for peaceful meditation — and the training of younglings — had been the location of such a duel. She could feel the residue raw Force energy Barriss and Anakin had left behind. Both were powerful Force users in their own right and left a devastating impression on the grove and this hallway. Luminara now understood why she felt sick.

She spotted Master Depa Billaba—a Master who had formerly sat on the Council until the First Battle of Geonosis, after which she resigned and took on an apprentice—and her Padawan walking into the grove. Before she could turn away, the Padawan looked up and caught the eye of Luminara. While she expected the boy to look at her in a questioning and worrisome manor given the recent events—it was highly likely he knew what had happened, the entire Temple was sending vibrations through the Force about it—instead she saw something different. The boy stopped and gave a respectful bow to Luminara.

 _Did he know? Was this a bow of pity? Respect?_ Luminara was bewildered. It couldn’t be that he knew who she was, she had never met the boy.

Luminara smiled slightly and backed away from the window before Billaba could see her. Though Billaba’s Padawan seemed to have no prejudice towards Luminara, she didn’t wish to cause an incident with the Chalactan Master. Although, no one else was speaking to her, only about her. Why would Billaba react any different?

She backed into the hallway and leaned against one of the pillars. Despite the condescending looks from the rest of the Jedi, she was moved by the single gesture from this Padawan. Luminara was reminded of part of why she had admired the Jedi Order as a whole; they inspired hope. And it was her job as a senior member of the Order to train the next generation. Yoda's own Padawan had become Sith and no one had seen falter in his teachings. Had Barriss been knighted, Luminara would have taken a new apprentice eventually.

 _Why not now,_ she thought. _Why should I let the disappointment of Barriss dictate my future and the future of the Order._ Luminara decided she was going to go straight to the Council and make a request for a new Padawan.

If anything, it’ll take my mind off of Barriss. Give my focus a positive place to be centered.

She made haste out of the dormitory wing and back into the main lobby. As she walked back towards the turbolift to the Council chambers, Luminara saw Skywalker accompanying Masters Tiplee and Tiplar on a walk towards the hangar wing of the Temple. Luminara briefly wondered why Ahsoka wasn't with him, but quickly dismissed the thought—Ahsoka had probably retired to her quarters to get much needed rest after the past few days she had endured.

Luminara was focusing on how she was going to convince the Council to let her teach again. She had done nothing wrong in her own instruction of Barriss. Though she doubted the assembled Council would see it that way. That they would see Barriss as only an isolated incident. By now they had probably decided Luminara was the mastermind behind an entire cell of Anti-War Jedi. While she admitted the Council was very wise, there was margin for error in everyone's decisions; especially her former apprentice's.

Luminara shook the thought of Barriss from her head. She had been prepared to let her student go; but not like this. She decided there really was nothing left for her to think of the matter. It was done. She and Barriss were over.

When the turbolift reached the top of the spire, Luminara clasped her hands behind her back and walked forward into the antechamber where she spotted Obi-Wan sitting in a chair with his hands clasping his face.

"Obi-Wan, is everything alright?" she asked.

Luminara had never experienced a silence quiet like the one Obi-Wan created now. Should she say something else? Should she wait for him to respond? In the brief moments between her question and his answer, time felt irrelevant and all Luminara could feel was the tension building on the Force. A powerful impression of loss and anger—similar to what she had felt in the dormitories. Though, this Force signature was not Barriss’.

Obi-Wan did not rise his head to respond, but Luminara could see his jaw tightly clenching as his hands pressed into his knees. "Ahsoka left the Order."


	3. Enough for One Life

_Mid 3950 BBY - Coruscant._

Visas Marr hummed quietly as she looked at the small child before her. (Due to being Miraluka this was done by the means of Force Sight, an inherent ability her species possessed) He was not more than a week old and already his mother was off, determined to save the galaxy once more.

At least that is what Atton had said as he protested her leaving. “That Bastila is a real piece of work. I don’t see why you of all people would want to spend time with someone that wound up,” Visas recalled him saying. To which the Exile—though she was exiled no more, it had become habit to refer to her as such—had so cleverly responded, “She reminds me of you when we first met.”

Atton hadn’t found jest in the comparison.

Visas did, however. Not that she didn’t care for Atton, but it was refreshing to see him put in his place by someone other than the Handmaiden, _Brianna_ —another name habit Visas was attempting to break. At the very least she had to not show contempt for Atton; the Exile—Meetra Surik—had chosen to create life with him.

Perhaps _chosen_ wasn’t exactly the correct word to use. He had impregnated her and she had already been a month pregnant when she told Visas. (Visas had already known as she could ‘see’ the growing Force power of the child within the Exile). The Exile had insisted on a series of meditations to decide whether or not she should carry the child to term.

The Exile, as well as her companions, knew she eventually would follow Revan to the unknown regions of space. They also knew she must go alone and take no one she loved or that loved her.

A child complicated this.

After spending two full rotations in meditation, Visas had told the Exile to choose whatever she felt was the best course of action. If the Exile had had any idea of what to do, she wouldn’t have consulted Visas first and would have assented if she had been  determined. Visas’ meditation revealed to her that the child would be very strong in the Force, no more.

When the Exile asked if her child would be loved, Visas didn’t need to go into deep meditation to find the answer. Between her and the rest of the Lost Jedi the Exile had personally traveled with, they would all love and watch out for her son. At that, the Exile responded with, “Good. Because you no I never can love it. Love...is difficult.” She loved Atton. Of that, Visas was sure. She loved a fool.

Visas never thought she’d find herself agreeing with the woman who called herself Kreia.

If it had not been for Kreia, it’s possible she would’ve never met the Exile. Kreia had led a faction of rogue Jedi who called themselves the Sith after the long-dead species that had been at war with the Republic a millennium before. Taking the Sith mantle of Darth Traya, she led the Sith Triumvirate and began a systematic purge of the galaxy. They hunted all who dared call themselves Jedi. Almost overnight it seemed, the order was virtually wiped out and only a handful survived. At the height of her power, Darth Traya was dethroned by her personal apprentices—Darth Sion, the Lord of Pain, and Darth Nihilus, the Lord of Hunger.

Visas had been the apprentice of Darth Nihilus. She had seen first-hand the destruction one being was capable of. He annihilated an entire world, draining it of all life and making the world dead to the Force. Visas had been the only survivor.

It was possible that was what the Exile was afraid of for her child; of him turning to the dark side when she hadn’t. In many ways the Exile was a mirror of Nihilus. They were both wounds in the Force, both Kreia’s students, both present when the Mass Shadow Generator ripped apart Malachor V…

Visas understood now. It was the reason the Exile had cut herself off from the Force in the first place: she didn’t want to create a monster.

And now she had given birth to a child. And Visas was watching over him as she patiently awaited the Exile’s return from the apartment of Bastila Shan.

“Meetra, can’t we talk about this?” Visas heard from beyond the room. Atton.

“We can talk after—” the Exile opened the door to the bedroom and quickly shut it behind her, careful to not slam the door and wake her sleeping son.

She looked rather unnerved. Her short brown hair was matted against her forehead and her skin appeared hot through the Force, doubtless flushing the color of her normally pale white skin—or so that was the color Visas was told the Exile’s skin was—and her eyes gave off a glow in Visas’ vision. She had been told they were a piercing blue color. She couldn’t make out the detail herself.

“Exile—,” Visas started before being abruptly interrupted by the Exile’s hand.

“Meetra, Visas. Please, _officially_ I am no longer exiled,” she said.

“Meetra,” Visas said, smiling gently at the woman she out of great respect would call “Master,” but didn’t because of the request not to.

In one hand, the Exile—Meetra—held something wrapped in a swatch of black cloth. Visas could tell it was heavy by the strain the object exerting on Meetra. She also sensed a powerful presence in it (perhaps that was the source of the weight) Meetra crossed the room to the bed she hadn’t slept on in days and sat down on it. She carefully put her mysterious parcel down beside her.

“How was meeting with the Jedi Bastila?” Visas asked, remaining by the door in case Atton requested admittance. She could tell that the last thing Meetra wanted to do right now was talk to him.

“I’ll be leaving with Tee-Three tonight,” Meetra responded, her voice veiled in a false confidence Visas could see beyond.

“Where?”

“I can’t say. I can’t have you follow me,” Meetra said and ran a hand over her face to clear the hair from her forehead.

“Then the time has come,” Visas sighed and looked down at the nameless child. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Atton,” Meetra said. Visas turned to look at her with surprise. She couldn’t possibly name her son after that fool—even if the fool was the father. “Should name him,” she added quickly. “He is his father, after all.”

“And you his mother,” the Miraluka said in protest.

“Not as far as anyone else is concerned, Visas. Only you and Atton know,” she said calmly. “And Mira, if she returns with Brianna from hunting down HK.”

“He’ll ask questions about you. When he’s older,” Visas said, turning her attention back onto the sleeping child.

“You’re assuming I won’t be back to answer them,” Meetra said faintly.

“You’re going after Revan. Do you believe you’ll both return safely?”

At first Meetra didn’t respond. Once again she clenched the object tightly in her hand. She stood and crossed back to the door. “Keep him sane,” she said.

“Your son or your—”

“ _Atton_ ,” Meetra said, sighing. “He’s not my anything. He can’t be. And I can’t be his,” she said, turning back to Visas. “He has to be a father to that child. And a Jedi.” She gave a weak smile as her grip on the object became tighter. “That is his destiny. Kreia couldn’t see it but I see it now. Keep him on that path, Visas.”

“My life for yours,” Visas said, proclaiming her everlasting loyalty to the Exile, her teacher, her friend.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “Your life for his,” she added, gently motioning towards the crib.

Visas nodded. “May the Force be with you, Exile.”

“Goodbye, Visas Marr. And may the Force be with you,” Meetra said, giving a faint smile. Opening the door, T3-M4 whirled up to her. “Ready to go then?”

“Yeah. All packed up and ready to go,” Atton said bitterly.

T3 made an agitated beeping sound.

“Yes, Tee-Three, I’ll tell the Council you’ve gone to win back their champion…” he said, crossing his arms.

“Atton,” Meetra sighed, reaching her hand out to him.

He stood, taking her hand. “Meetra,” he said, and moved in to kiss her.

At the last moment she pulled away and placed her hand on his chest. “You’re a good man,” she said.

“Let me come with you,” Atton said.

“You said it yourself, when you’re with me you don’t have very long to live,” she said. After a moment she added, “I can’t let you give up your life, everything you’ve wanted or—”

“Well that’s going to be a problem because you are everything I want,” he said, frowning.

“Atton,” she said, sighing.

“Wait. You’re going to leave tonight yeah? Okay then. Then gather your supplies, tie up whatever loose ends you feel you need to. Even talk to that _witch_ Atris if you think it’ll prepare you to leave. But come back here. One last time.” His words were desperate, scraping at any chance he had to make her stay. If Visas couldn’t feel the vibrations he was sending through the Force, she would’ve thought him pathetic. “Let me say goodbye the only way I know how…”

“Atton, I can’t—”

“Please,” he begged and put his hand over hers. “Please.”

Visas shifted uncomfortably. The child was still asleep so she had no reason to be attending to him, but felt as if she was intruding on a private moment.

Meetra took her hand from Atton’s chest and held the object she clenched so tightly with both her hands. “Come by my quarters in the Temple at sunset. The _Hawk_ is on one of the landing pads. You may say goodbye then if you wish, Master Rand.” And with that, she was gone, the little utility droid following at her heel.

Visas wanted to go after her, to say something of reason to her. She knew it wasn’t worth the effort—the Exile was gone once more.

“ _Kriffing_ Revan,” Atton muttered. Visas could sense the tension still swimming around Atton. She could feel him begin to drown in his fear.

“Release yourself from fear, Atton. It won’t do you any good,” she said.

Atton frowned and turned towards her. The fear. The hate. The jealousy. _Revan._

Meetra had served as Revan’s highest ranking general during the Mandalorian Wars. But he never treated her as his lesser. The two of them were like two sides of the same coin. The Revanchist and the General were said to saved the galaxy from the Mandalorians. It used to be said that those names could conjure miracles. Meetra and Revan. The General and the Revanchist.

They were heroes to many, and villains to so many others. To Visas, however, they were heroes. Atton’s jealousy seemed to override his common sense. At times, Visas doubted his competence .However, he had impregnated a legend. Perhaps that took some type of competence.

“I’ve been having visions,” Atton finally said.

Visas didn’t believe her ears. Only she and the Exile had ever managed to go deep enough into the Force to receive visions. If she had to pick any of the Exile’s informal students she would’ve thought the Disciple— _Mical_ —would be the one to have them...not Atton. It wasn’t as if Force visions were common. She used to have many of them while in deep meditation aboard the Ravager, but ever since it had taken much of her concentration and complete surrender to the Force to be granted a vision; things she was sure Atton was incapable of.

It was possible that he possessed the same talent as Kreia, precognition, but that would be a stretch. Kreia was a powerful Sith Lord and Atton was, well, a fool. A Jedi, perhaps, but a fool nonetheless. For what is left when you strip away his power and his brief Jedi training? The fool that the Exile found imprisoned on Peragus. He had been clever at times, but Visas gave most of the credit to sheer luck or the Will of the Force to keep him alive. If the Force was determined to keep him alive, then there was no mistaking these visions as important.

“Or premonitions, I don’t know what the kriffing Jedi term is…” Atton sighed.

“These visions you have…” Visas started, coming forward and sitting down.

Atton looked down at her, paused briefly, and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “There of pain...suffering,” his throat clenched, “death.”

Visas clenched her teeth. She wasn’t an expert in this kind of thing, but she certainly was trying. She wanted to become one of the Order’s greatest seers. That included being able to interpret visions as well. “Do you see yourself...or someone you know?”

“Someone.”

Visas didn’t like where this was going. The anxiety that Atton was emanating was palpable. “Close to you?” she asked.

Atton looked down and cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Visas took a deep breath, wondering if she should give her professional opinion as a Seer or as Atton’s friend. She decided the former would be best. After all, it could be anyone from Atton’s life. He had other friends. People from before the Dark Wars. There were others in his life that would be difficult to lose. He had to...he had to.

“You must be careful when sensing the future, Atton,” she said. She bit her lip and continued, “the fear of loss is a path to the dark side.” She had been down that path. The fear, the anger, the hate...she felt it all when Darth Nihilus eradicated her homeworld, Katarr. That was when she fell and became his apprentice.

Atton raised his head slightly. “I won’t let these visions come true, Visas,” he breathed, his voice hoarse.

What Visas said next was more for herself than for Atton. She shared the fear, but would never admit it. She had to keep him sane. “Death is a natural part of life. You must rejoice for those around who transcend into the living Force,” she advised. Easier said than done. “Do not mourn them. Do not miss them.” She was pushing the words out of her mouth. She believed only in part what she was saying. “Attachment can lead to...jealousy. The shadow of greed…”

Atton began to raise his voice. “Then what should I do, Visas?”

Visas turned her head towards the bedroom, towards the unnamed child left in her charge. She let out a breathy sigh. She would need to learn this lesson as well. “You must teach yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose…”

“I can’t let go of her, Visas! I love her!” Atton was yelling now.

The baby started crying.

Visas rose quickly to her feet and rushed into the other room. She took the babe from the crib and into her arms. He was heavier than he had been a mere hour ago. The weight of something unseen, foreign, but without tangible form.

She gently rocked him back and forth, swaying through the room. It didn’t stop at first. She would’ve used a mind trick to send the baby off into a realm of dreams, but she knew Meetra would disapprove. Though perhaps not. It was also highly likely that even at so young an age, the child would have a power so great in the Force that he’d be protected from such an invasive attempt.

The nameless baby only continued to wail in her arms until Atton walked into the room. She turned toward him and it stopped.

“I guess I have that effect on people,” he said.

“I assure you it has nothing to do with seeing you. Most likely it is your presence and the bond you share,” Visas replied, gently placing the child down into the crib. His presence once again peaceful—and quiet.

“When people look at me they can’t help but be quiet. I’m breathtaking,” Atton declared.

Visas would’ve rolled her eyes if she had any. “I beg to differ.” She stifled a slight chuckle and gently rocked the crib side to side with motions as careful as if she were disarming a live bomb.

“You can’t even see—”

“I can _see_ enough to know you aren’t much to look at,” she teased. She was thankful the conversation had taken a less serious tone. She had just about dealt with all the somber conversation she could for one rotation.

“ _She_ must see differently, ‘else she would’ve taken me with her. I must be distracting…” Atton sneered.

“Distracting to the droid maybe,” Visas said, pulling herself away from the crib.

Atton nodded and left the room. Again there was a shift in the Force. Visas’ skin began to goosebump and she felt a coldness. It couldn’t be Atton unsettling the balance? Could it?

She heard a crash—luckily the baby didn’t awaken.

Visas rushed into the other room to find Atton, his hand bloodied, standing above the shattered remains of the glass statue the Chancellor had given the Exile for defeating the Sith Triumvirate.

Battling across Telos, Nar Shaddaa, Dantooine, M4-78, Onderon, Dxun, Korriban, and revisiting the horrors of Malachor V and all she got from the Republic was a glass statue of herself. Granted, a Jedi should _require no attachments._

The statue wasn’t Visas’ immediate concern—she’d clean it up later. “You could’ve woken the child, Atton!” she scolded in a hushed voice.

“Why,” he stammered, holding his bloodied hand. “I just don’t understand why she has to go…”

Visas sighed. “You know she needs to do this,” she said in a calmer tone. “Where she is going she cannot take anyone she loves...especially you.” She turned back to look at the bedroom where the Exile and Atton’s sleeping child was sound asleep. “Both of you.”

“Because of an unspeakable evil...I know. I know. I heard Kreia say the same thing to her on Malachor…” he spat, his speech solid and hard as stone.

Visas shook her head and crossed over to the cabinet, crabbing a medpac out of it. “She loves you, Atton.” She pulled out a kolto-bandage. “Violently and ferociously.”

“Which makes me a weakness,” he breathed.

“Yes,” she said, bringing the bandage over to him and wrapping his hand. “And your son...he’s an extension of that. But also of her. You can still express your feelings for her through him…”

“You don’t think she’ll return?” he asked, flexing his hand in its new confines.

Visas huffed. She knew this would happen eventually. The Exile needed to be in action, she needed to be in a fight. Peacetime didn’t suit her. “I can’t be certain of her future, Atton. I haven’t had any visions.” It was true, she hadn’t; although she wished she had, that she had some idea of if and when the Exile would return.

“What about him?” Atton asked. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “I know you both did a lot of meditation on whether or not she should’ve carried him to term or not.”

Visas felt her throat tighten. It was true, the Exile was highly considering not carrying the child to term. To making things simpler. In her eyes, she wasn’t fit to play the role of mother. In a way, she wasn’t.

“What do you see in his future, Visas? What did you see?”

The Miraluka hadn’t considered it at length. Of course there was the question of if the child would even survive within the Exile. If she would keep herself out of harm's way long enough and if she would ever return to it after the birth. Most of the meditation had been geared towards the Exile—not the child.

A single word dragged itself to the front of Visas’ mind. Something that was hidden in her meditation, in her visions. Something she hadn’t focused on before. Something she thought was a mere passing thought—

“Mandalore,” Visas said flatly, puzzled by her own speech.

“Mandalore? _Our_ Mandalore?” Atton asked in comparable confusion.

“No, not Canderous,” Visas responded, only the briefest glimpses of the future flashing before mind.

_Pazaak._

_Ilum._

_Mandalore._

_Rand?_

_Atton Rand?_

“Visas?”

She snapped out of it. “Yes?” she asked, raising her head towards Atton’s voice. (Apparently during her visions, she had started panting) He was now inside the bedroom.

“What did you see?”

“I don’t...I can’t be certain,” she admitted and breathed deeply. Regaining control of her breath, she noticed a headache bringing itself to the forefront of her head. Though the baby was still silent, thankfully.

“What should I name him?” Atton called out.

 _I don’t know,_ she thought. There was nothing that immediately came to her mind. The Exile hadn’t said anything about naming _him_. _He_ was just _there._ That was it. He was there. He was nameless. And he was _hers._

And she was gone.

*

Present Day - Coruscant.

"This is all so wrong," Luminara said. Obi-Wan nodded. "Ahsoka should've been found not-guilty, Ventress should've been the one responsible and Barriss should've been a Knight by now." Of course that would've been too simple. The Force had willed events to unravel as they had.

"Interesting how Ventress managed to play a key role in the solving of the mystery. She seems to be doing a lot of favors for the Jedi," Obi-Wan said.

Luminara furrowed her brows. "I did hear about how she helped you escape Darth Maul." It was difficult to stomach the return of a once-presumed-dead Sith Lord who now had disappeared; it was far more difficult for Luminara to stomach that her own Padawan had killed more Jedi than the former assassin, Asajj Ventress. "When I faced her above Rodia, I never would have guessed her fate would have led where it did," she said.

"Ventress is a great ally to us. I wish she had been there with me on Mandalore. Together we might have saved the Duchess," he sighed. Luminara swallowed hard. She had seen Obi-Wan the morning he left to go to Mandalore—she had almost offered to go with him. Though she hadn't. Obi-Wan had gone alone and failed to extract the Duchess alive.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," Obi-Wan added, breaking the silence." As of now, it seemed to be working against them

"Indeed," Luminara mumbled, bringing her hands down into her lap.

"When Barriss was knighted, you were to take Master Gallia's seat on the Council," Obi-Wan revealed in a whisper.

"Wha-" Luminara's eyes went wide. "I would've been honored." She almost added, _to bring a more sensible being onto the Council_ , but refrained. The Council was to be respected.

"I doubt that'll happen now. I also doubt I'll get a new apprentice," Luminara noted.

"The vote to elect a new member must be unanimous...and I doubt Master Mundi would be intrigued with the idea. However I think especially do to recent events, you should be training a new Padawan. No one should question your ability to teach, Luminara. Barriss was an isolated case, that's all. She does not reflect your teachings," Obi-Wan stated. Luminara smiled at the kind words of her friend as the Council chamber doors opened.

The two Jedi glanced at each other before rising from their seated positions and stepping into the Council chamber.

"Master Unduli," Windu started, "After three days of continuous deliberation, this Council has selected a student to become your Padawan learner. Madame Jocasta is sending him up here as we speak."

"Thank you Masters," Luminara said, rather shocked. While it was the outcome she hoped for, it was not the one she expected to occur. She hadn’t kept an eye on the Mirialan younglings currently at the temple, since she had been busy training Barriss. It was customary for Mirialan Jedi to only be trained by fellow Mirialans, and Luminara was sure she would be receiving a Padawan of the same race. "I do not take this opportunity lightly. I will train this student to the very best of my ability."

"Until he arrives, there is another matter we must discuss," Master Mundi stated.

"Padawan Offee" Obi-Wan said, surprised the Council wished to discuss this now.

“Take a seat, Master Kenobi," Windu sternly advised.

Kenobi gave Luminara a reassuring look and took his seat. A chill ran down Luminara's back as she observed the ten Masters before her. They did their best to let their faces remain neutral, but the Force betrayed them and allowed Luminara to feel the hesitation and resentment circulating throughout the room. It almost felt as if she _was_ Barriss.

"What is to be her fate, Masters?" Luminara asked, addressing the whole Council, but only making eye contact with Obi-Wan and Yoda as they seemed to be the two least judgemental members of the Council.

"The Senate demands she be turned over for Republic sentencing and be stripped of her affiliation with the Order," Master Mundi responded. The same sentence Ahsoka had received.

"If that is what the Council believes to be best," she said. It was a shame. She never saw the dark side in her apprentice, but it now seemed that anything was possible in this war. It had been almost millennia since the Jedi had acted as war generals...and yet there they were again.

Obi-Wan sighed and gave Luminara a gentle smile. The rest of the Council seemed to be in agreement about one thing: it was a shame.

“After what happened with Ahsoka, we have refused the Senate’s wishes that she be held in a government facility. Instead, she will be kept here under clone guard. I made a point to the Chancellor that our facilities are built for restraining Force-users,” Kit Fisto explained.

Luminara knew the Senate would not take this lightly, though she also believed they had no business in internal Jedi affairs. Recently the office of the Chancellor had been pressing the Order and attempting to enforce their own policies and rules. However, officially, the Jedi Order was an organization independent of the Republic. Unfortunately their basis of operation was on the Republic capital world.

Luminara felt another presence arrive in the Council's spire—a presence she had never felt before and one that was confirmed by Yoda: "Arrived, Padawan Tesab has," Yoda said cheerfully, changing the mood.

Luminara turned around to see the chamber doors slide open. Into the room walked a human boy, no older than seventeen standard years. At first glance she thought the Padawan highly resembled Obi-Wan at that age — but Obi-Wan’s hair had been quite redder, Luminara remembered. This Padawan was of a medium but athletic build with blonde hair and sapphire eyes. He wore a grey tunic with a black tabard, boots, and belt, with a black cloak. From his belt hung a single lightsaber.

"Master Unduli, I am Padawan learner Sam Tesab. At your service," the Padawan said, bowing to his new Master. He was polite enough. Luminara straightened her posture and gave Tesab a gentle smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Padawan," Luminara smiled, returning the bow. "I look forward to beginning your training."

It seemed as though things were becoming positive for Luminara. Barriss wasn't going to be moved to a crude government facility, she had been considered for a position on the Council, and she had a new Padawan that appeared both respectful and capable.

"If you could excuse us for a moment, Master Unduli, the Council wishes to speak with Padawan Tesab. Alone," Windu announced. There was the Sithspit.

Obi-Wan raised a brow, taken aback by the Council's sudden change of tune. Catching the eye of Luminara, he simply shrugged, not knowing anymore than her.

"Of course, Masters," she nodded and reluctantly left the room. Luminara had never heard of the Council speaking solely to Padawans without their Master present...or if they did they had never done so with the Masters’ knowledge. She stood watching the door close between her and her new Padawan.

Luminara paced back and forth and after a few minutes passed, she sat down. _What could they possibly be talking about?_ she thought. She normally wasn't this impatient—she was very disciplined in patience, though it seemed the war was taking its toll on her ability to maintain it. Under the circumstances, she was concerned about what exactly the Council wanted to discuss alone with Sam. Perhaps they were briefing him on Luminara's most recent history.

It was also possible they were merely discussing what it meant to be a Padawan—it seemed he was of ripe age to become a Padawan, perhaps even older than most. It was possible he had had a Master before who had died. That was not an uncommon fate during the Clone Wars.

The mirialan took a deep breath. It had been a long day and she was beginning to really feel how tired she had become as an effect of that. She turned to see the elevator door open as a Twilek Knight, Aayla Secura, walked out.

"Aayla," Luminara exclaimed, standing up to greet her long-time friend. Aayla smiled and walked over to hug Luminara. Luminara had been a close friend of Aayla’s ever since the latter became Quinlan Vos’ Padawan. Luminara had been her closest confidant on all things feminine. Despite their different xenobiology, Luminara had been able to provide Aayla with whatever she needed at the time when she was younger.

"It's been too long, my friend! It’s so good to see you,” Aayla beamed. She had a few scratches and bruises adorning her arms and a bandage wrapping around one of her lekku—the twin headtails that extended down from the back of her head to her shoulders—that looked as though it was a few days old.

“I assume you’ve heard,” Luminara solemnly noted.

“I’m afraid it’s all over the holonet,” she replied. Luminara nodded and sat back down. It was beyond her how quickly sensitive information could spread so quickly throughout the 'net. She didn’t even need to clarify what they were talking about.

Every Jedi knew about Barriss.

Aayla sighed and sat next to her. “Nobody could’ve seen that coming, Luminara. I’m sure Barriss’ heart was in the right place. She could’ve executed her ideals better however.”

“I agree” Luminara sighed. If only Barriss had come to her in the first place with her concerns, they could have gone about it a different way. Together.

There were a few moments’ silence until Luminara broke it. “Let us discuss a different topic, yes? From where have you returned with those battle wounds?”

“Mandalore.”

“Mandalore?” Luminara inquired. She wasn't aware of a Republic invasion.

“It’s much the same as Obi-Wan described in his official report of the planet. Complete chaos. The Death Watch had complete control of the planet, but is housed up in the citadel. Anarchy roams through the streets with angry rebels mounting military advances." Mandalore was a peaceful world when the Duchess Satine Kyrze was alive. Once she was overthrown by the Shadow Collective, the planet took a tailspin for the worst.

"It’s remarkable how much violence can occur. I lost an entire battalion and two cruisers to planetside turrets. There was so much domestic fighting, we got caught in the crossfire. Officially, I had to withdraw my forces because of the lack of Separatist presence. However I sensed that the Sith were long-gone. Only the prime minister remains,” Aayla recounted.

“It’s a shame such a peaceful world could fall to ruin,” Luminara sighed. She had once visited Mandalore with Obi-Wan and Quinlan Vos when they were Padawans and had heard a number of stories from Obi-Wan as well as many holo-reports since the Death Watch recently became active.

“We were able to relieve some bystanders. One of the noble families, Clan Ordo, accompanied me back to Coruscant. They wish to speak with the Senate about sending a full invasion force instead of simply relief. The late Duchess’ nephew is with them,” Aayla said.

Luminara nodded. She knew Obi-Wan would not take the status-update well. Though, it was his duty to remain professional and emotionally removed. “It might be awhile before you can brief the Council. They’re currently speaking to my new Padawan. A conversation that is taking longer than when they decided to allow me to teach again in the first place,” Luminara huffed.

“No doubt Master Mundi is leading the doubtful. He tried many times to have Master Vos expelled from the order,” Aayla noted.

“That’s not reassuring,” Luminara said curtly before breaking into a hysterical  chuckle thinking of Master Vos—she hadn't seen him in some time and wondered if he was up to his antics, or had truly been seduced by the Dark Side of the Force. Aayla smiled seeing the laughter in her friend.

The Twilek Jedi seemed as if she was going to ask Luminara another question until the Council doors slid open.

“Master Unduli, join us, would you,” Yoda said in an inviting voice from the Council chambers.

“Good luck,” Aayla said, taking the hands of her friend.  Luminara smiled at Aayla and patted her hand before rising. She then walked into the Council chambers, the doors closing behind her.

“Padawan Samwell, forward come,” Yoda said, extending his arm out to Sam who was now standing near the edge of the room next to the doors. Sam walked back to the middle of the chamber and stood next to Luminara.

“This Council sees no reason why you should not take this boy as your apprentice,” Windu spoke. If that were true, they wouldn’t have made Luminara leave her student behind to speak to the Council. She knew this. There was something they weren’t telling her.

“However due to recent events we believe it in the best interest of the Jedi as a whole if a member of this Council assisted in the training of this pupil,” Mundi added. There it was. Luminara had never heard of such an arrangement.

“The Council is concerned that if it is made public you are training a new apprentice, the Senate or the Chancellor will want to become involved with Jedi affairs and attempt to strip the right to teach form you,” Obi-Wan regretfully noted. The Senate shouldn't have any say on the matter, or even know that Luminara was Barriss' Master. Not that it was hidden information, just not easily accessible by the public.

“Master Kenobi, assist you, he will,” Yoda proclaimed. Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide as the Council had not made a decision on who the overseeing-Master would be. He looked to Luminara who now had a look of relief on her face. If it had to be one of the Council members, at least it was Obi-Wan.

“Thank you Masters. I assure you, Padawan Tesab is in good hands with me and will learn much from both of us,” Luminara said, bowing her head. “If that is all, Master Secura is outside waiting to brief you all on the Mandalore situation.” Both Obi-Wan and Sam’s ears perked up at the mention of the planet.

“All for now, that will be,” Yoda said, releasing Luminara and Sam from the meeting.

The pair left the chamber, passing Aayla on their way out. Once in the elevator, Luminara spoke directly to her new student for the first time: “Padawan Tesab,” she started.

“Yes, Master?” Sam replied, turning to face his Master. He was about three inches taller than her, but maintained a respectful gaze.

“It has been a very long day for all of us, as you can imagine,” Luminara said. Sam nodded. “I am in need of retirement to my quarters and wish to begin your training tomorrow. Is that alright?”

“Of course, Master,” Sam smiled.

“Now I haven’t been informed, but I take it you had a Master before me, have you not?” she asked. It was highly likely Sam was already a Padawan and had received some specialized training. Though she would recover all of that material, Luminara wanted to know exactly who had trained the boy.

“Yes. Two. Well. Sort of two,” her newly appointed Padawan answered, slightly uncomfortable.

 _Two?_ Luminara thought. _Just my luck to receive a Padawan whose Masters die on him. She scorned herself for the thought. It’s not as if it’s this Padawan’s fault his Masters have left him. It is by the will of the Force he has been placed under my charge. If the toll of this war and Barriss weren’t the end of me, neither will be this Padawan._

“May I ask what happened to them?” Luminara asked. Of course, it was not unheard of during this war for a Padawan to be reassigned to a new Master after the death of their former one. It had always been that way. Though Luminara had never encountered a Jedi who had _two_ Masters die on them.

“My first Master was Master Finn Etray. She was killed by the Sith Darth Maul,” he said. It seemed this Padawan and Obi-Wan would have something in common right from the beginning. Luminara didn’t fear the kind of repercussions this might have in their relationship, but she was wary of the connection Obi-Wan might forge with the Padawan via pain and loss.

“Though she hadn’t been _my_  Master for some time. It was a complicated situation, when Padawan Tano returned with Padawan O-mer from Trandosha. O-mer was her first Padawan. He returned to her tutelage and ever since I haven’t been assigned by the Council to a new Master,” he added. Luminara felt for him. She could only imagine how difficult it must have been to give up his place at his Master’s side. “My second Master, if I can even call her that, isn’t dead. I hadn't even begun training with her yet, for she was not yet knighted. Though I was told, more of a rumor actually, that I was to begin training next week with”—as if the galaxy hadn’t been cruel enough lately— “Master Barriss Offee.”

Luminara’s eyes went wide, however she maintained her composition. _Kriff the will of the Force_ , she thought, _kriff the Council._ It is not as if the Council was not aware of each and every Padawan and Master pair. They knew exactly who this Padawan was and whose student he was supposedly supposed to become, so what could have willed them to assign him to her? She decided she would inquire about that to Obi-Wan later.

“What forms were you practicing?” she asked after a long pause in the conversation, switching the subject away from her former student. Barriss was no longer a part of her life, but this Padawan was.

“Forms two and three,” Sam answered. “I’m very good at form two; however, I need to work more on form three.”

“You are in luck then, my Padawan, or Master Kenobi and I are both very proficient in Soresu. The road is long, but I assure you it is worth the journey, for a true Master of Form Three is invincible,” she smiled at her student.

“You have also constructed a lightsaber,” she noted as the elevator reached its destination.

“Yes Master,” Sam replied, taking his weapon from his belt and stepping into the elevator mezzanine.

“May I?” she asked. Without hesitation, Sam laid his weapon in Luminara’s hands. This wasn't the first time he let another Jedi hold his weapon, though he hadn't since his Master died. She told him that this weapon was his life, and so he guarded it as such.

Luminara inspected the curved weapon, making note of its similarity to Count Dooku’s. However it had three prongs attached to the emitter instead of Dooku’s single. She activated the weapon with a snap-hiss sound, a brilliant amethyst blade of plasma emerging.

“I’ve yet to experience the production of such a crystal from Ilum,” Luminara commented before deactivating the saber.

“Master, I’m not sure how I found it. But it’s as if the crystal found me. I was in the same Gathering as Ahsoka Tano. We found our crystals at the same time—or rather our crystals found us at the same time,” Sam recalled.

“The crystal is the heart of the blade, my Padawan. The crystal that has chosen you is a rare one indeed, but I sense a rarity in you as well,” Luminara noted. Sam seemed troubled by this. “Are you well, Sam?” Luminara handed Sam back his lightsaber, which he reattached to his belt.

“Yes Master,” Sam said, raising his view to look Luminara in the eye. “It’s only," he paused briefly before continuing, "I was wondering what Master Secura had to say about Mandalore is all.”

“Why so curious?” Luminara asked.

“It’s my homeworld,” Sam answered. Luminara felt a lump begin to form in her throat. “And my aunt was the Duchess Satine.” Luminara nodded and raised an inquisitive brow. “Are you alright, Master?”

“Yes I’m fine," she said. And she was. She was confused, though. Most Jedi do not have ties to their families or even know who they are. "How is it you came to this knowledge? That is—how do you know your family?” Luminara inquired.

“My mother died soon after childbirth and my father was never part of the equation," he started. "My aunt raised me and my brother—we’re twins. However, when I was five, Master Plo visited the planet on a favor to Master Qui-Gon Jinn; to assure everything was going well in the system. It was then that my Force-sensitivity was discovered. My aunt insisted she have contact with me. It was that or the Jedi couldn’t have me." The Jedi wouldn't have given her much choice, though Master Plo was more open to negotiation than most Jedi.

"It’s been awhile since there’s been a Jedi of Mandalorian blood…so Master Yoda agreed. As for my brother, Master Plo didn’t sense the Force in him...however, we have this...telepathic link. It’s like a-”

Luminara cut him off, “A Force-bond.” She didn't know much about the subject, only that they were strong connections that bound two individuals together. Usually Master and Apprentice, though it seemed reasonable it could occur between siblings as well.

“Yes,” Sam responded, “Something like that.” He paused. “Master, I have a confession.” Luminara nodded, signalling Sam to proceed.

“Whenever my aunt was on Coruscant for politics, I’d go see her,” he swallowed hard. It wasn’t strictly forbidden for Jedi to see their families, though most didn’t know where to even begin looking for them. “I did my best Jedi duty to not form attachment.”

“That is the way of the Jedi,” Luminara assured him. Even though he had ties to his family, it didn’t seem as though they were inhibiting him in any way.

“I didn’t cry when she died.”

A lie—she could sense it. Though she wasn’t sure why he lied. Crying was a natural biological function that occurred when one was sad. Though the Jedi were to remain free of emotions, she herself was, at the moment, feeling sad.

*

“My brother—he did cry, bawled actually,” Sam said. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt so good to tell Master Unduli this, to tell _someone_. He had kept all of this from his friends and other Masters for fear of ridicule or reprimandment.

Even when his aunt was still alive, he never truly told any of his fellow Jedi where exactly he was going when he went to see her. It would always be “out” or “running errands for Madame Jocasta.” Perhaps it was because he knew he would spend an excessive amount of time with Master Unduli, he wanted her to know everything. No secrets. If anything, it lowered the playing field between them since the Mirialan’s dirty laundry had just been aired out all over the holonet.

“We spoke once after it happened, about a week ago and he made it very clear that for me to not succumb to my feelings is something he resents me for...We haven’t spoken since. Not even through the _bond._ ” He swallowed hard. “I believe he has been killed as a result of the Republic invasion,” Sam reported. “The Mandalorians, we, _they_ ," he corrected himself—he was a Jedi, "are a proud people. They’re not easily conquered and especially those that sided with that Sith will not give up their independence easily.” Though he hoped some of them would see reason.

Sam shifted slightly, hoping Master Unduli couldn’t sense the falsehood of his attachment. He had been very close with his aunt and her death wrecked him. However because of the code, he had to keep those feelings secret from everyone, even his own brother.

Master Unduli took a moment to evaluate all of this. “Rarity, indeed,” she smiled and put a hand on her student’s shoulder. “I look forward to our future together, Padawan Tesab.” This made Sam feel better, feel safe with his Master. With the rest of his cohort either dead or having resigned from the order only hours earlier, he didn’t think his chances of completing his training were great. Unlike his previous Master, Master Unduli’s old apprentice wouldn’t be returning to her side anytime soon. Perhaps he would complete his training

“As do I, Master Unduli,” Sam smiled and bowed respectfully to Luminara.

Then, Master Kenobi and a Twilek Master whom Sam recognized but couldn’t remember the name of came up to them.

“Master Unduli, I need you to come with me to the communications center,” Master Kenobi said.  Maintaining perfect posture despite what Sam could only imagine was exhaustion and annoyance, Master Unduli turned around to face Master Kenobi, with Sam in her tow.

“What’s the emergency, Master Kenobi?” she asked

“It’s a level four distress signal from Master Vos requesting assistance,” the Twilek Jedi, who Sam now remembered was named Aayla Secura, answered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were some struggles while writing this chapter...it's been in drafts since early October because I could never really figure out how I wanted to introduce the character of Sam while still keeping the drama of the Barriss situation at hand.
> 
> Also I now have a Beta! So that'll make things easier and better for you guys hopefully. Now you don't have to suffer through what I think is grammar as opposed to what is actually grammar.
> 
> I also now have a wonderful consulting friend that has graciously offered to keep me on track when it comes to keeping characters in their distinctive voices and keeping their goals and lives straight so thank you to her. You can find her here: dreamin-sun.tumblr.com
> 
> And a thank you to you, the reader, who has made it this far.


	4. Fool on Ice

Mid 3934 BBY - Hyperspace on board the _Pazaak_

Routine. That was all this mission was supposed to be. _Routine._ At least that is what Ensign Colandra Tierney was told when she departed from Coruscant aboard the _Pazaak_ , a former Jedi warship.

“A warship? Aren’t the Jedi supposed to be peaceful?” Colandra complained as she hustled down the corridors of the ship, blaster in hand.

The _Pazaak_ ’s original flight path was to go from Coruscant to drop off supplies over Korriban, and then to Telos.

It seemed they had picked up some unexpected guests while in orbit above Korriban.

There were fires on three decks, including the engine deck, blaster fire on Deck 10, and some hooded figure making mincemeat of the command deck. There was also a blasted alarm ringing throughout the whole ship. She had lost communications with the bridge seconds after she arrived on Deck 12. Now she was running for her life to a Jedi’s quarters.

“If the Jedi are so powerful, why didn’t they sense this?” she huffed, turning the final corner. The younger of the two Jedi had injured himself while unloading fuel canisters onto the _Indomitable_ , and had to be admitted to the medbay. He was supposed to be in a kolto-tank but had insisted on staying on the bridge while his master meditated.

When she reached the end of the hall, she swiped her emergency all-access pass the Captain had given her and let herself into the room. It was a large stateroom and at the end of it, sitting cross-legged and looking out a viewport, was a hooded Jedi in purple and black robes.

“Master Jedi!” Colandra yelled frantically, “We’ve been boarded, someone is taking over the ship!”

She didn’t move. Didn’t even budge.

Colandra frowned and ran over to the Jedi. “Don’t be dead… don’t be dead…” she whispered to herself. She was about to put her hands on the Jedi’s shoulders — to perhaps shake her awake — until she was rudely interrupted by a sharp jerk in the ship — they had come out of hyperspace.

Colandra hit the ground hard and headfirst.

“Vos...” she heard the Jedi say.

She lifted her head to see the Jedi standing up, her hood drawn back. A human—no, she didn’t have eyes. She was a Mira-something-or-other Jedi.

“Ma’am…” Colandra started, propping herself up on an elbow.

The Jedi drew her hood back over her eyes. “I am sorry,” the Jedi said. “I must reach the bridge. Good luck.”

Colandra blinked and the Jedi had already left the room, leaving a surge of wind behind her. She slowly lifted herself up off the ground with the assistance of the viewport ledge. She looked outside the viewport saw a large grey mass approaching the _Pazaak_ from starboard.  

 _An enemy ship,_ she concluded. The only way out now was through the escape pods. She saw an all-white planet past the enemy ship. _Better there than in here,_ she sighed. She needed to reach an escape pod — and quick.

Colandra turned away from the viewport to search for her blaster, and instead was greeted by a gleaming, brilliant blade of blue plasma swinging towards her.

*

_Present Day - Coruscant_

Obi-Wan stood with Luminara, patiently waiting for their Padawan to arrive. In a way, he was glad Anakin had left the Temple rather abruptly for Ringo Vinda. Obi-Wan had never planned on taking on another apprentice after Anakin, especially since he acted as — _had acted as_ —  Ahsoka’s secondary master.

Anakin had left so quickly, Obi-Wan did not get a single conversation in before Master Windu gave him an Outer Rim status update and mentioned, “Skywalker is en route to Ringo Vinda.” He figured the Council probably wanted to deal with the whole situation even less than Obi-Wan did, hence why they were so quick to allow Luminara a new student.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what was to become of Barriss. The Council decided they would vote in the coming days — while Obi-Wan was off-planet. He put in his vote to keep her confined in the Temple until they could figure out a permanent solution. Luminara hadn’t pressed him for information, but he could tell she was also wondering what would happen.

Instead, Luminara stood straight up, her hands folded behind her back as she observed the hangar of the extended platform they were on. Not too many hangar-crew were working today due to the incident the week before. The hanger that Barriss had bombed was only a few hangers over and many feared she had left more surprises.

Obi-Wan was less troubled by the Barriss situation than he was by Quinlan’s vague distress call. He hadn’t seen the Kiffar Jedi since the beginning of the war, when they failed to hunt down Ziro the Hutt together.

Quinlan requested that Obi-Wan, Barriss, and Aayla come to Ilum on a Consular-class Cruiser with a skeleton crew completely devoid of clones. Obi-Wan thought it an odd request to not bring any clones with them, but they figured that it meant that this was official Jedi business. It was no surprise to Obi-Wan that Quinlan wouldn’t want to go through the Council, especially if it turned out that he hadn’t really found anything.

Aayla had been Quinlan’s Padawan, so it was no surprise that if he found something especially troubling, he would want her by his side. Obi-Wan came to the conclusion that Quinlan had no idea what had happened with Barriss, or he would not have requested her assistance. He thought it was strange that he would ask for Barriss, they didn’t have many interactions and those they did were brief. But in her place, Luminara had volunteered for the mission. Luminara’s new Padawan would also be joining them.

Committing five Jedi to a single mission was not very common. They were stretched far and thin, protecting the Galaxy often in only pairs of two or alone.

Obi-Wan was sure the Council was not going to be pleased when they returned, but Quinlan sounded quite serious over holo and he couldn’t ignore that — the same reason he couldn’t ignore Satine’s call — and if Quinlan had somehow found Maul, Obi-Wan would end it once and for all.

It was unlikely Quinlan would find the Sith Lord. _Detachment,_ Obi-Wan told himself. He never considered himself susceptible to the lure of the darkside. When it came to avenging Satine, killing Maul...

_We caution ourselves against personal attachment, yet we can’t help but to create them—_

_There is no emotion._

Obi-Wan made out a figure running quickly through the hangar. _Sam._ Padawans and younglings these days were so fully of energy. Obi-Wan never really felt old around Anakin, but around Ahsoka and now Sam — he was beginning to feel the wear and tear of the war on his mind and body. Not the night before he had found a grey hair in his beard. At this rate, he was worried he’d go entirely grey by the time he was fifty standard years.

Sam quickened his pace toward the platform, almost dropping his standard-issue Jedi cold-gear bag. Obi-Wan saw Luminara force her mouth into a gentle smile. However difficult this situation was for Obi-Wan, he was sure Luminara was feeling it exponentially worse — but he was impressed by how well she hid it.

“Sam, have you made the necessary preparations?” Luminara asked the Padawan as he caught up with his Masters. Her eyes were tired, but she remained active and alert. She had expressed earlier that she was determined to rest during the journey to Ilum.

“Yes, Master,” Sam answered, putting his bags on the ground. “My cold-gear, as well as additional rations, water, and bacta packs.”

“Good,” Luminara smiled. “Master Secura is already onboard. Shall we, gentlemen?” And with that, she turned and ascended the loading ramp.

Obi-Wan could see that Luminara was truly beginning to wear out. She wasn’t as eccentric as Anakin, certainly not, but she had never been so cold-cut in conversation. Especially with a Padawan. Then again, he hadn’t spent much time with her and Barriss since the war started. Perhaps she had changed. Perhaps it was her way of exercising detachment. He looked at Sam and gently clasped the Padawan’s shoulder. Together, they made their way up the loading ramp of the ship.

Once onboard, Obi-Wan helped Sam find empty quarters and he put his cold-gear on one of the bunks. Obi-Wan could sense that something was troubling the young Padawan. Like Luminara, he wanted to get as much rest on this trip as possible — he still had some bruises from Mandalore — but knew he couldn’t let Sam remain the way he was.

Troubled apprentices should not be left to their own devices.

“Is something troubling you, Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked with a genuine smile.

Sam smiled feebly. “Master Kenobi,” he began, “I’m curious as to why Master Vos asked for our assistance?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure himself. Granted, Quinlan hadn’t asked for their help, but for Barriss’ and Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan wondered if this padawan had ever been off-world before. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unheard of either. While most of the Jedi had been turned over to the war effort, many remained at the Temple. Especially masterless Padawans. Perhaps this was his way of asking, _why are we leaving the Temple?_

“I’ll explain on the way to the salon pod,” Obi-Wan answered. He reached out to the wall’s com panel and pressed the button that allowed him to speak to the bridge. “Captain, let’s get underway,” he said into the panel.

As the ship began to take off, Obi-Wan let out a breathy sigh and smiled at Sam. “Shall we?”

Sam nodded and the two set off towards the lift.

“The last time I was on Ilum was before the war began. Has much changed?” Sam asked.

“Dooku sent droids to the planet near the beginning of the war but has stayed away for the past few years,” Obi-Wan said, walking alongside the young Padawan.

“Strange the Sith are respecting such a sacred Jedi place. I guess until now,” Sam sighed.

Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure what Quinlan had gotten himself into. If it was Maul, Maul wasn’t Sith, not anymore. That would break the Rule of Two. Dooku had spoke of another, years ago on Geonosis — Sidious. “It’s not the Sith. Or at least, not Dooku,” Obi-Wan said.

Sam stopped walking. “Not Dooku? Then it’s Dooku’s Master?” Sam asked.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. It wasn’t exactly hidden knowledge that Dooku wasn’t the Sith in the Senate, but he didn’t expect a Temple-Padawan to know such things. “Master Vos intercepted a distress beacon from a Hammerhead-class cruiser that crashed onto the planet surface,” Obi-Wan answered. Now Sam knew just as much as Obi-Wan did.

The two resumed walking until they reached the lift and Obi-Wan pressed the button to summon it. He looked over to Sam to find him in concentration. If he was preparing another question for Obi-Wan, he hoped he’d hurry along with it. Obi-Wan wasn’t feeling impatient, he genuinely enjoyed conversation with a fresh, unmolded Padawan — but he felt Luminara should be the one answering these questions. Obi-Wan was only acting as an “Overseeing-Master,” a term the Council cooked up for this special circumstance.

“Weren’t those ships used during the Jedi Civil War? How could a distress signal from four-thousand years ago still be active?” Sam asked.

Obi-Wan had only once before investigated a similar signal from that time period. A signal that led him to Mortis. Although Anakin and Ahsoka had been with him then, and he hoped that this excursion would not compare to Mortis. It was an experience Obi-Wan would rather forget about.

“That is what we intend to find out,” Obi-Wan said. “Master Vos reported that the crash-site seems untouched. It is far from the Jedi Temple. However…” Obi-Wan brought his hand up to his chin. “Master Vos reported the presence of dark side energy.”

“Dark side energy? On Ilum?” Sam queried as the lift arrived.

“It seems so,” Obi-Wan said stepping into the lift. Sam followed and pressed the down button. “More than you bargained for, isn’t it, Padawan?”

“Not at all, Master Kenobi. I am a Jedi and there’s someone or something in distress. It’s my duty to help them in any way I can,” Sam said.

If only Anakin had been this enthusiastic about his duties. “That is good to hear,” Obi-Wan smiled as the lift stopped and opened up. The two Jedi stepped out and towards the salon pod. As the they walked into the pod, the ship jerked — a sign they had entered hyperspace.

“Master Unduli,  Master Secura,” Sam said, bowing respectfully after stepping into the pod. The two Jedi smiled at the boy.

The pod was set up like a large conference room with a black, circular table in the center and chairs similar to that of the Jedi Council chamber surrounding it. Around the room were many panels and a few viewports.

“ _Now that we’re all here, can someone explain to me what exactly happened while I’ve been away?_ ” a holographic version of Quinlan Vos asked. The four Jedi sat around the table, the holotransmitter in the center.

Obi-Wan looked to Luminara who remained quiet. Aayla didn’t say a word either. Obi-Wan could feel the tension in the room beginning to rest on his shoulders.

 _This is what I get for being the_ negotiator.

“Barriss Offee will not be joining us.” he finally said. “She has been detained after bombing the Temple.” He looked over again at Luminara and saw no change in her expression. “So in her absence, Master Unduli and our new Padawan, Sam, are joining us,” Obi-Wan stated.

“Our _Padawan_?” Quinlan asked, crossing his arms.

“The Council thought it best to have one of their own monitor my teaching since my last apprentice became a terrorist,” Luminara curtly stated.  

“ _Well, Master Unduli, I hope Kenobi isn’t giving you too much trouble,”_ Quinlan said. “ _How’d Skywalker take the new_ s?” Everyone was silent. “ _That good, eh?_ ” he said after a few moments.

“Perhaps we should talk about the situation at hand?” Aayla said in her usual non-confrontational style.

“ _Yes_ ,” Quinlan agreed. “ _You have a skeleton crew of non-military personnel, yeah?_ ”

“Indeed,” Luminara replied.

“Just as you instructed,” Obi-Wan added.

“ _Alright._ ” Quinlan stretched out his arms and inaudibly cracked his knuckles. “ _This ship bears the mark of the Jedi Council from over four thousand years ago,_ ” Quinlan reported.

“The Council from after the Jedi Purge?” Obi-Wan asked.

Quinlan nodded.

He wasn’t very familiar with that bit of Jedi History, but had heard much from Quinlan about it. When they were younger, Quinlan was obsessed with the Grey Jedi, which was essentially what he had become. It was now clear why he had requested Barriss assistance as well. She had spent much of her time at the Temple in the library going over details from the Jedi’s history. She had been an expert on the time of Darth Revan.

“ _Run a data-search on a ship called the_ Pazaak,” Quinlan asked. “ _I’m almost certain that this is that ship._ ”

Aayla took out a datapad and began searching the Temple’s archives she had downloaded. “The _Pazaak_ was said to have been destroyed during a battle over Morabond against remnant Sith Triumvirate forces,” Aayla reported.

“If it was destroyed over Morabond, then how did it wind up lodged in ice on the other side of the galaxy?” Sam asked.

“ _And entirely intact,_ ” Quinlan added. He paused and looked around as if he heard something. “ _I thought it best to wait for the rest of you to arrive before venturing onto the bridge. The distress beacon seems to have originated from there._ ”

“Anything that can tell us what happened?” Obi-Wan asked. This definitely seemed like something Quinlan should have told the Council. Obi-Wan wondered if Quinlan thought that Obi-Wan was enough to represent the interests of the Council. Perhaps he was. He had been a member of the Council for almost three years now and still didn’t feel entirely secure in the position — but Windu and Yoda did value his opinion.

“ _I’ve yet to come across any bodies...which is troubling. No matter where this vessel went down, there should have been something resembling three hundred crew members on board_ ,” Quinlan responded.

“How can that many people just disappear? Unless someone disturbed the bodies. Untouched, the temperature would create a freezer keeping all of the bodies perfectly preserved,” Sam said.

Obi-Wan was impressed. Maybe Sam was not as adventurous as Ahsoka and Anakin, but he seemed to have spent more time in the library then either of them combined.

“ _My holo is low on battery._ ” Quinlan began to cut out. “ _I’ve set up camp in the hang— I’ve sent the—ates to—hip, do try to arrive on time,_ ” Quinlan said, flickering in and out of frame.

“As if you ever do, Quin,” Obi-Wan chuckled. Quinlan had never arrived on time once in all the years Obi-Wan had known him.

“ _This—ifferent my friend.—dark forces at wor—_ ” Quinlan responded. “ _Vos out._ ” As the hologram of the Grey Jedi disappeared, Aayla stood up.

“We’ll arrive on Ilum in about five standard rotations’ time. I believe it best for us all to retire, yes?” Aayla suggested.

“I agree,” Luminara said, standing as well. Obi-Wan and Sam stood up. “I’ll be along shortly. Obi-Wan, stay a moment?” Obi-Wan nodded and remained in the room as Sam and Aayla left.

Obi-Wan sighed. “You sense it too?” he asked. During their conversation with Quinlan, he had felt something but wasn’t sure what it was. It reminded him of Mortis, which could mean nothing good.

“A disturbance in the Force. It’s strong...but faint. Like an echo from the other side of the galaxy,” Luminara said.

Luminara described it rather perfectly. Obi-Wan felt an echo of Force energy. A distant echo that he could hardly hear and at the same time felt as if it was screaming in his ear. The Force was all around everything and penetrated everything, but this echo felt equally as powerful as it was passive. Quinlan should’ve contacted the council.

“What’s Quin even doing out there?! He’s supposed to be…” Obi-Wan stopped himself, remembering Quinlan’s mission to Orto’s Hub was supposed to be classified.

Luminara raised a brow.

“Well he’s not supposed to be here…” Obi-Wan offered up. It was possible the Kiffar Jedi was simply following a lead he had gotten, but also possible he had become momentarily distracted.

“It’s a wonder Vos completes any of his missions, Obi-Wan,” Luminara said, shaking her head in disapproval. He couldn’t remember the last time the three of them were all together. It had been too long.

He felt it again. Or rather, it was on the edge of his thoughts but not quite present. _The echo._

“Dark times are ahead of us,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Indeed,” Luminara agreed. She put her hand on his chest, sighed and began to leave the salon pod. Before Obi-Wan had the chance to sit down again, she turned her head toward him. “Obi-Wan, I’m sorry about Ahsoka.”

“And I for Barriss.”

Luminara turned back towards the hallway and exited the pod, the door slamming behind her. Obi-Wan sighed and sat down in a chair. Five days to get to Ilum and all he had to focus on was his regrets. He didn’t want to interfere with Sam’s training more than Luminara asked. He was her Padawan. Obi-Wan’s teaching days were over. Anakin would never take another apprentice, and Obi-Wan was sure that Anakin would never approve of someone else in Obi-Wan’s life because if there were someone in Obi-Wan’s life, they’d be in Anakin’s life. And Anakin wouldn’t let anyone in again; not after Ahsoka.

The hum of hyperspace began to drown out the echo that Obi-Wan heard. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the engines.

*

Ilum was a harsh planet, covered in icy tundras and littered with long-forgotten, buried strongholds from the Second Great Galactic War. There were many ancient Sith and Jedi relics across the planet, including the most sacred of Jedi Temples. The Temple on Ilum was connected to a series of crystal caverns where younglings would come to collect their kyber crystals and eventually build their own lightsabers.

Sam had only been to Ilum once — prior to the war on an archeology expedition that he had worked very hard to be accepted on.  He had been the only initiate from his generation to take part in the expedition. It had been led by the Miraluka Jedi Master Jerec, whom Sam hadn’t seen since the outbreak of the war and figured must have been on top-secret assignment by the Council. Barriss Offee had been among the members of this expedition, as well as Jedi Knight, now Master,  Stass Allie, and many others that escaped Sam’s memory.

It was supposed to be a training mission, but upon the discovery of dangerous Sith Holocrons, Master Jerec had cut the trip short and sent Master Allie back with all of the initiates and Padawans.

The last time a member of his cohort — a group of six Jedi initiates that were banded together to combine specialty traits and skills — was on Ilum was several months earlier, leading another cohort’s Gathering.

Sam and his cohort — the dead: a female Gungan named Augie, a female human named Sertan, a male Zabrak named Irik, and the surviving members: a lethan Twi-lek male named Rylis, and the Togruta, Ahsoka Tano — participated in a Gathering that had taken place on the jungle world of Devaron, which as a result of the war was now lost to the Separatists. It was there he found his rare violet crystal at the same time Ahsoka had found her green one. They had built their lightsabers together aboard the _Crucible_ , which had also been lost as a result of the war.

Sam shivered looking out at the ice-mountain range. He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. The Jedi team had been exploring the crashed Hammerhead ship and the surrounding area for three days now but still had not made it to the bridge; in fact they had found very little of anything.

The _Hammerhead_ -class cruiser was a vast ship about 315 meters in length. It had remained surprisingly intact, though it was possible the ship did not, in fact, crash on the planet but instead was docked here and simply was covered with snow over millennia. The entire bottom section of the vertically elongated bridge was buried beneath snow, no doubt lodged in the ice by now. The only parts of the ship visible were the top of the bridge section, the leftmost engine, and the hangar on the port side. Many hallways were simply blocked off by ice, and others led to dead ends.

The shadow, Quinlan Vos, declared that today they would make it to the bridge.

Sam wondered if the Council was missing Master Kenobi yet.

“Padawan?” his Master called out, entering the hangar bay from the seemingly endless, icy passageways.

“Over here, Master!” Sam yelled back. He stood up and walked over to her.

“We’re starting to break through into bridge. Are you prepared?” Master Unduli asked. It seemed Master Vos’ confidence was paying off.

“Of course, Master,” Sam nodded.

His Master smiled, “Good.”

The pair walked further into the cruiser to join the rest of their team. There were hitches in Sam’s breathing as the temperature dropped even further inside the submerged ship, but after a time he began to regulate it. Since the power in the ship had gone out long ago, they had to make use of service hatches connecting the decks. Luckily, the bridge deck was only three decks above the hangar deck.  Master Unduli kept the hallways lit with her blade until they rejoined Masters Kenobi, Secura and Vos.

Sam stood by the space heater and watched Masters Kenobi and Vos cut into the door. Master Vos was quite an interesting Jedi from what Sam observed the past two days. He was a tall, tan, well-muscled Kiffar with a narrow yellow tattoo running across the width of his face, which was usually pulled into a grin. Black dreadlocks fell in an organized mess from his head. Sam figured the thick hair must keep the Jedi warm, for he forwent the hood of his black great coat. He appeared to cause Master Kenobi a great deal of distress while at the same time retaining quite a humorous attitude.

“You’d think after a couple thousand years that a door would wear down, not become more sturdy,” Master Vos complained, attempting to cut through the metal with his green-bladed lightsaber.

“It has worn down. This door should be impregnable, it’s a wonder at all we’ve gotten this far” Master Kenobi responded, cutting the other side of the door.

“Maybe we should just push it in?” Master Vos suggested, sounding exhausted. He deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it on his belt.

“We might damage something on the other side,” Master Kenobi said. “We cannot risk it.”

“Why don’t we pull the door out then?” Sam asked.

The four Jedi Masters all looked at Sam and he immediately regretted making the comment.

“That’s a great idea actually,” Master Vos noted. “Kenobi, I like this kid. Much more than that moody Padawan of yours.”

Sam let out the breath he was holding in.

“Let’s stick to the situation at hand, Master Vos,” Master Unduli said as if she was talking to an Anooba. “After all you did send out a level four distress signal, and yet, no distress.”

“I felt something, saw some things,” Master Vos said, crossing his arms. “Dark stuff happened here.”

Sam thought “dark stuff” seemed like a very casual way of talking about the Sith. However, they had not yet determined if it was the Sith at work. Even if they had, no one had told him about it. If they had discovered Sith forces at work, Sam figured he’d probably be sent back to the ship while the Masters dealt with it.

“Quin, help me with this door,” Master Kenobi said, returning his own weapon to his belt.

Masters Kenobi and Vos used the Force to tear open the door to the bridge. Stepping into the formerly sealed off room, the Jedi found frozen bodies strewn across the floor. The five large viewports were shattered, and snow and ice had come in through them. The consoles were frozen over, and support beams broke through the ceiling.

With a flick of her wrist, Master Secura ignited her lightsaber to illuminate the room while Master Kenobi began to set up a portable lamp.

Sam stepped ahead of the senior Jedi to the front of the bridge and knelt down at the snow deposit that had come through from the window. It had covered the entire bow of the bridge and filled up the maintenance well.  He reached out his hand and touched the ice sheet over the well. He sensed something beneath it but couldn’t be sure of what.

“So much bloodshed,” Sam said, turning to see Master Kenobi standing over him, the room now sufficiently lit.

“Yes,” Master Kenobi sighed. “Not unlike our own war today.” He stroked his bearded chin and bent down to put his gloved hand on the ice Sam was inspecting. “There’s another body beneath here,” he said.

“The transmitter isn’t here,” Master Vos said with a deep frown, approaching the bow. “And all of these people were killed by a lightsaber.”

There was a silence among the group.

“Quin, help me move this ice,” Master Kenobi asked.

Sam stood up and walked over to the console his Master and Master Secura were defrosting. Master Unduli closed her eyes and reached out with one of her hands, the ice on the console lifting as she did so. She moved it aside as Master Secura began to follow suit. They managed to defrost enough ice to reveal the name of the ship: The _Pazaak,_ personal flagship of Atton Rand. Master Vos’ suspicion had appeared correct.

“I thought it was the flagship of Jedi Master Visas Marr?” Sam recalled from research he had done during the transit to Ilum. “Who’s Master Rand?” he asked, pulling out a datapad from his backpack. He looked up the name in the temple records he had downloaded onto his datapad, but could not find records of him.

“Master Rand,” Master Secura began, “was one of the lost Jedi that rebuilt our Order after the Jedi Purge during the Dark Wars. He helped the Jedi Exile bring the galaxy back from the brink of destruction by the Sith Triumvirate. He even sat on the Council for a short time.” She shivered and pulled her coat tighter.

“What happened to him?” Sam asked, putting his datapad down.

“He died four thousand years ago,” Master Unduli interjected.

Master Secura didn’t continue the history lesson. It seemed to Sam, that she didn’t want to overstep her boundaries. Instead, she walked over to Master Kenobi and held light up for him and Master Vos as they dug their way into the maintenance pit.

“But if he served on the Council, why is there no record of him?” Sam pushed, stepping closer to his Master. He didn’t wish to upset his master, who clearly was not a fan of Atton Rand, but he wanted to know what was so bad about this Jedi who had apparently _sat on the Council._

“Because the Jedi like to forget their failures,” Master Vos answered in a carefree tone. Sam’s Master glared at the Kiffar, who shrugged. “It’s the truth isn’t it? Twenty years from now, no one will remember Barriss.”

“Enough, Quin,” Master Kenobi demanded. “This is not the time, nor is it the place to discuss this.” He shook his head at Vos and cleared away another deposit of ice with the Force.

It was very clear to Sam that Masters Unduli, Vos, and Kenobi had history together. Though it seemed as if it was now a rocky relationship.

He stood silent as Master Unduli walked over to Vos. “Master Vos, do not forget it was you who fell so very close to the dark side. I am not ashamed of the mistakes my former Padawan made. Those choices were her own, the same as the ancient Jedi Master Atton Rand,” she said, turning to face Sam. “Master Rand _was_ a respected, powerful member of the Order and served on the Council. But, he is a perfect example as to why the Jedi discourages attachment. Master Rand had a powerful Force-bond with the Jedi Exile and the two had a relationship. The Exile disappeared from the face of the galaxy, driving Master Rand to a very dark place. He removed himself from the Council and began to gamble and drink his way through life. One day, Grand Master Mical went looking for Master Rand and found him dead in his quarters. Depressed, he had drank himself to death.”

Sam was taken aback. “And this is restricted material from Padawans? Wouldn’t that story only strengthen the resolve for Jedi not to engage in attachments?” Sam asked. His question was directed at his master but he was looking at Master Kenobi, who was bent over the maintenance pit.

“The Council makes those decisions, Padawan. I do not speak for them,” his Master responded.

Sam nodded. Master Kenobi was on the Council. Perhaps he’d ask him about it later without Master Unduli around...He hoped she couldn’t hear his thoughts.

“Guys...and Dolls,” Master Vos started, bending over to get a closer look at the maintenance pit.  “I think we just found the captain of this vessel.”

Master Kenobi turned to see what he was referring to and let out a brief shudder through the Force. He and Master Vos used the Force to lift a frozen corpse out of the maintenance pit. The body was perfectly maintained by being frozen for so long. It wore black and purple robes and held a lightsaber frozen in its hand.

“A Jedi,” Sam said, stating the obvious.

“She’s a Miraluka,” Master Vos reported, while carefully examining the body. “I’ve only ever met one Miraluka outside the Order and he wasn’t very Jedi-friendly.”

“So was she a Sith?” Master Secura inquired.

“No,” Master Unduli answered, looking down at the body. She skillfully pried the lightsaber from the corpse’s hand and inspected it. “Jedi Master Visas Marr, another one of the Exile’s informal apprentices,” she declared.

“Didn’t Visas Marr disappear? I’ve read records by Jedi Master Bastila Shan that suggested she went back to the Sith,” Master Kenobi said, grasping his beard.

“That could explain why these men died of lightsaber wounds,” Master Secura suggested.

“What it doesn’t explain is where that distress signal came from,” Master Vos said. “Scanners only picked it up recently. I took the ad down once I heard about it. No one else in the black market has any idea. Even if it’s an old signal, someone activated it.” He sighed and walked over to console, slamming it in frustration. “Aayla, let’s take this body back to the ship. We’ll take it with us and perhaps the Temple Jedi can shed some light.”

Master Secura nodded and went back to the hangar for a stretcher.

“We’ll keep looking for that signal,” Master Kenobi nodded.

“Wherever it’s coming from, someone is trying to route it from here. It should be coming from here!” Master Vos said, crossing his arms in frustration.

“There can’t be many access points into the hardline of the emergency beacon. I’m sure we’ll find it,” Master Kenobi said reassuringly.

Sam put his datapad back in his backpack. Master Unduli walked over to her padawan and gave him the lightsaber she took from Visas Marr’s corpse.

“Put this is in your bag, Padawan.”

“Yes Master,” Sam complied and put the lightsaber in his backpack.

“Master Unduli, Sam, shall we?” Master Kenobi said, leading the trio out of the bridge while Master Vos stayed behind.

Master Kenobi ignited his blade, casting an icy blue light ahead of them. Reaching a dead end at the end of the bridge deck, they climbed down an access hatch to a floor five decks below. Strewn with barracks, it appeared to be the crew deck. As they were walking down the halls, Sam bringing up the rear, he felt something strange in the Force.

“Masters,” Sam said, putting his hand on his forehead.

“What is it, Sam?” Master Kenobi asked, turning around to face his shared apprentice.

Something was _off._ Sam couldn’t easily tell what. He just felt pressure; a weight in the Force. Ever since they arrived on the crew deck — several decks below the bridge deck — he’d felt heavy.

A sharp pain pierced Sam’s head, prompting a yelp from him. “I sense...there!” Sam pointed at a door at the end of the hallway.

Master Unduli called up a holomap of _Hammerhead_ ship schematics from her holopad. “According to our records, that room should be the medical bay,” she reported.

“Perhaps that is where our mysterious signal is coming from,” Master Kenobi suggested.

“The Force has willed us this way, Padawan,” Master Unduli explained.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before,” Sam said. “It felt more like...a warning almost.”

Master Kenobi looked to Master Unduli, “Precognition.”

Precognition, from what Sam knew, was the ability to see events before they transpired.

“I can see into the future?” Sam naively asked.

“No,” Master Unduli answered. “No Jedi can see the future, as the future is always uncertain. But there are Jedi who experience warnings, a danger sense. It is a skill we teach but, I take it you haven’t had that training yet under Master Koon?”

“I haven’t, Masters,” Sam answered.

Master Unduli outstretched her arm in the direction Sam had earlier pointed. “I don’t sense anything, Master Kenobi. Could it be danger in that room that the Padawan sensed from a natural ability?”

“He certainly wouldn’t be the first,” Master Kenobi said. He then turned to Sam and said, “Don’t worry, I have the ability as well. It’s nothing to be afraid of. It can be startling at times, however. To be unsure of what’s ahead and suddenly feel as if it is going to go wrong.” He put a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Whatever is in that room, we can face, young one. The Jedi always prevail,” he smiled.

Sam nodded and sighed. He took the front, walking in front of his Masters as they closed the gap between them and the door to the medical bay. Sam placed his hand on the door and felt another disturbance in the Force. This time, he saw a vision.

_It was hazy, but Sam saw himself, older, but not by much. He was wielding a blue lightsaber and was in a large room. The room seemed familiar, like a place of his childhood. It was also foreign...but he couldn’t figure out why or how. It had high ceilings and beautiful stained glass works adorning the walls. As Sam fixed his eyes on what seemed to be a throne, he saw a dark-cloaked figure move towards him with a red-bladed lightsaber drawn._

_He walked forward towards the figure only to see the world around him shift. No longer was he surrounded by beautiful stained glass, but now by cold and dark metal. He could make out deep reds and blacks in his surroundings but it was heavily blurred. The air tasted of soot. Sam fixed his eyes towards the center of the room and saw the same figure he had seen earlier in his vision. Suddenly Sam couldn’t move — he was choking. The dark figure came towards him slowly and impaled him with the scarlet blade. Sam couldn’t feel it — he could only watch in horror as the lightsaber drove its way into his stomach._

“Padawan? What is it?” Master Unduli asked, placing her hand on her student’s shoulder.

Sam shook himself out of the vision. “I had a vision...”

Master Kenobi and Master Unduli looked at each other.

“Of the room beyond?” Master Unduli asked.

Sam shook his head.

“We’ll discuss whatever your vision was later,” Master Kenobi assured him in a wary tone.

Sam nodded, touching his hand to his forehead. He moved out of the way as Master Kenobi drove his lightsaber into the door and cut a large circular entryway for them to enter through.

Stepping into the room, immediately Sam felt cold. Well, _colder_ than he already did. A sharp chill rolled over his shoulders, prompting him to ignite his own blade. The air wasn’t as thin as it was in the rest of the ship; the medical bay was still sustaining life-support. The lights didn’t seem to work in this room either. At least something was consistent.

Master Unduli ignited her saber as well. With the room now fully lit, Sam made out eight bacta tanks lining the room. Each of them containing a body.

Curious, Sam walked over to one and attempted to interact with the console. It gave out readings that resembled the tanks in the Temple: species (Nautolan), sex (female), name of the patient (Keq Rutsan), midichlorian levels (3002), heart rate...

“Dead,” Sam reported

Master Unduli and Master Kenobi observed a few more consoles, pronouncing the submerged beings all dead.

Sam sighed. “Where did they all come from?” He looked down at the console of the Nautolan woman’s tank and realized something strange. These weren’t bacta tanks, they were kolto tanks. Kolto, similar to bacta was a liquid known for its healing abilities. It was found in the water of the oceanic planet Manaan, with a significant concentration in underwater chasms. It was once considered a valuable commodity during the time of the Jedi Civil War. However its significance was lost over time, being replaced in favor of bacta. Some historians have suggested that it may have been more powerful. Apparently it was powerful enough to keep deceased bodies well-kept.

This must explain why Master Vos had only recently been drawn to the beacon. Whoever left these people — these Jedi — here, must have activated it. But who would come here? And why activate a signal unless they wanted it to be found...

Master Kenobi turned to face his shared student. “Yet, we still haven’t found the source of the distress signal.” His face was troubled, he stroked his beard.

Master Unduli had deactivated her saber. “You both may want to look at this,” she advised. Master Kenobi and Sam huddled around her as she began to read off what she had found. “Subject: Human male. Classification: Jedi Knight. Date...” she stopped.

“What is it,” Master Kenobi asked while looking himself. “The last time this console was used was only thirteen years ago, near the time of the Battle of Naboo. This Jedi died only recently…”

Sam drew himself away from the kolto tank his masters were looking at and instead turned his attention to the back of the room.

“Obi-Wan, check the dates on the rest of these consoles,” Master Unduli suggested. As Master Kenobi looked at the dates on the consoles on one side of the room, Master Unduli investigated the others.

“Each is five hundred years apart. All of them were Jedi. Killed and sustained in these tanks,” Master Kenobi reported, troubled.

Sam didn’t say anything about the open tank. That would explain the beacon...someone must have escaped and activated it so that the Jedi would find this place. What that didn’t explain was where they were now. Or why they didn’t stay to meet whoever found them. A Jedi could go longer without food than most beings. And with so much and snow around, one could attempt to melt it with the Force for a viable drinking resource…

Okay. Maybe not.

“A Sith plot?” Master Unduli suggested. “But what could the Sith want with all these Jedi? They’d have to come back after generations and generations to this place…”

That was a scary thought. Fourteen years ago, the Sith were a legend. Then Master Kenobi had faced Darth Maul on Naboo and the Council had denied the Sith’s return. Until Dooku came about as one. Sam wasn’t sure how the Sith had survived over a thousand years, but Rylis had mentioned something once about a “Rule of Two” — whatever that was.

Sam walked to the back of the room, which had overflowed with snow — which didn’t seem right. He called up the schematics of the _Hammerhead_ -class on his datapad. Unless there was a major internal break, there shouldn’t be any precipitation this part of the ship. Perhaps some kolto had spilled out. He deactivated his lightsaber, enough sufficient light coming from his datapad and reached out to check the consistency of the snow — if it was fresh, they may be in danger.

What Sam didn’t expect was to fall straight through the snow into another section of the room. He looked up to find he was looking, unblocked, at his two masters in the rest of the room.

_What._

“Masters,” Sam called.

The two turned around, visibly confused as to where he had gone.

He called out, “You’re going to want to see this.”

Master Kenobi made his way over and cautiously reached out his hand into the snow—what appeared to be snow.

“By the Force…”

Master Unduli followed suit, holding her lightsaber in front of her to survey the strange anomaly. “This isn’t a hologram,” she declared.

“I haven’t encountered an environmental alteration like this in quite some time...not since Master Plo taught us how to do it years ago,” Master Kenobi said, stepping into this well-lit section of the medical bay. He deactivated his lightsaber, eyes locked dead ahead.

“The dark side is very strong here,” Master Unduli said, her resolve unchanged as she advanced beyond the Force vision.

With Master Unduli’s lightsaber blade still above his head, Sam carefully scooted back to be out of her reach until hit his head on something cool and hard. “Ow,” he said, and reached back to rub that back of his head with his gloved hand.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Master Kenobi uttered, his eyes still locked above Sam.

Sam stood and turned around to find himself face to face with another kolto tank. Inside was a well-muscled human male, with dark brown hair swaying back and forth in the liquid. He was bound in only a pair of white medical shorts, an oxygen mask covering his mouth.

Sam wanted to take a step back, but found himself unable, a chill seizing his legs where they stood.

“Someone went through a great deal of trouble to hide him back here,” Master Kenobi said.

Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was if time simply fell away from him. Warmth spread through him as if he were on Tatooine. The young man in the tank’s skin seemed to be the color of the snow, though that could have been been due to the kolto’s effect on pigment. He was sure he wasn’t _white_ , but he was certainly very pale. Sam had been the poster child for Temple life — as he’d hardly ever left the Temple and even rarer left Coruscant — but this guy was _the_ poster child — _man_ — for the war. The rest of the corpses seemed as if the only thing keeping them from decomposing was the kolto and the temperature — despite this, some of them were in considerably bad shape — but this one was near human perfection. Despite the obviously impressive torso, Sam found himself caught staring at the man’s hard jawline—

“Sam—”

He snapped back to reality and turned to face his masters.

“What does the console say? We might not have much time.”

Sam turned back and set himself to work on the console. “Subject: human male. Classification: Jedi Padawan—” that made sense  “—Submersion date 3903 years before the the Great ReSynchronization. Last date accessed, three years before the Great ReSynchronization...directly following the Battle of Naboo. Subject…” Sam’s hand clasped over his mouth.

“Subject…?”

“Subject is alive,” Sam said, tearing his hand away from his mouth and back to the console. “That’s all that’s here. No name.”

“Well, this is new,” Master Kenobi stated, a jovial quality to his voice.  

“That can’t be right, can it Masters?” Sam asked. He meant to turn around, but found himself once again staring at the man — he was alive in there.

“I would never have believed it, but after what we saw on Geonosis with the hive mind and what you told me about Mortis, Master Kenobi,” Master Unduli paused. “Anything seems to be possible by will of the Force.”

“How could he have been sustained so long though?” Sam asked. With the supposed date he was submerged into the tank, this Padawan had been there since the time of the Jedi Civil War.

He heard Master Kenobi let out a gasp. He turned to find him back on the other side of the fake snow screen. “The other Jedi,” Master Kenobi declared. “All of these Jedi in these tanks...dead.”

“Obi-Wan...what you’re suggesting—” Master Unduli started.

Master Kenobi stepped back over to their side of the snow illusion. “Their life Force was syphoned from them and transferred to this boy…”

“Is that even possible?” Master Unduli queried.

“Anakin did it, back on Mortis with the Daughter and...Ahsoka...It’s possible surely. I’m just not sure who would come back for millennia to do so.”

“Could it be the Sith?” Sam suggested, immediately regretting what he had said. He didn’t want this boy to be Sith. He was too...too _perfect_ to be Sith. _Stay focused, Sam. This is not the time. He’s...he could be dangerous._

“It’s certainly possible. Perhaps we should speak with Yoda,” Master Kenobi suggested.

“We cannot leave him here, Obi-Wan. He’s a boy. We have to let him out and take him with us,” Master Unduli proclaimed.

Sam’s eyes widened and he turned his head. “Really? We’re going to take him with us?”

“Luminara, I’m not sure…”

“He is a _boy_ , Obi-Wan. We are Jedi and he is one of us. We must take him back to the Temple,” Master Unduli said, crossing her arms.

“Quin is going to have a fit. The Council…”

“You are on the Council, Master Kenobi. I’m sure you’ll get them to understand,” Master Unduli said, her mouth pulling into a sly smirk.

“Now I _certainly_ have a bad feeling about this,” Master Kenobi said, his eyebrows drawing together and his hand grazing his beard.

“I’ll begin the procedure to let him out,” Sam announced, beginning to push various buttons and move dials on the console.

“It is possible that he may not adjust well after thousands of years of containment,” Master Kenobi noted.

Master Kenobi certainly was not a fan of the idea. But Sam didn’t have a bad feeling about this guy. In fact, he had a good feeling — more than one in his pants. He saw light when he looked at this man. The boy in the kolto tank. He saw whatever it was when the Jedi philosophers talked about the cosmic Force. He saw the galaxy.

“We have sufficient enough medical resources back on the ship and between the five of us enough expertise in Force-healing,” Master Unduli stated.

Sam thought he had found the final part of the release procedure, but upon pressing one of the buttons, an alcove in the wall slid open. “Master Kenobi, would you please see what that was,” he politely asked, still engrossed in the console. Whoever had put the Jedi here in the first place was going through a lot of trouble to make sure he remained that way.

“All right,” Master Kenobi said. He reached into the alcove and pulled out a lightsaber. Igniting it, it glowed a brilliant imperial blue.

“That must be our tank-Padawan’s lightsaber,” Master Unduli suggested as Master Kenobi deactivated the blade.

“Since when did you become the comedian? I always thought that was Quin or myself’s job,” Master Kenobi joked as he hooked the hilt on to his belt.

“When one is in need, I always provide,” Master Unduli said, her voice choking up on the back half of the sentence.

Sam continued pressing buttons on the control pad until he found the prompt he was looking for. He activated the button that would release the Jedi from the kolto tank. As the liquid began to empty out from the tank, the Jedi’s eyes opened and he could have sworn he saw them flash gold as the glass encasement shattered outwards.

*

Quinlan Vos had seen many things in his time as a Shadow Knight, but he had never encountered a downed Republic cruiser thousands of years old with a perfectly preserved corpse of a long-dead Jedi Master.

 _That’ll teach me to go off of a tip from Sheb,_ he thought.

He was supposed to be Otor’s Hub — the place to be for black-market deals — casing out the Koorivar merchant Sheb Valaad. He had been on assignment for a few months now and was about two months away from taking down the entire black-market operation.

Quinlan’s special talent in the Force was his psychometric abilities. They allowed him to pick up impressions and traces of information about an object and the events surrounding it by touching it. One of the objects that he was going to pretend to buy from Sheb was what the Koorivar had described as “a nice red crystal pyramid that has ties all the way back to the Jedi Civil War” which could only mean one thing — a Sith holocron.

Hoping that the holocron wasn’t active and that it wouldn’t give away his cover, Quinlan took his chances and touched the holocron as he did the rest of Sheb’s merchandise. Luckily, it wasn’t active — or at least it didn’t respond to Quinlan’s Force signature. Perhaps he was just that good at hiding himself. It was also entirely possible that whatever information had been on the holocron, had already been accessed and then wiped from its memory.

His powers lead him to have a vision of an icy tundra and a figure in dark robes trudging through the snow, a freshly crashed _Hammerhead_ -class cruiser in the background.

He immediately bought it, storing it with the rest of the items he had bought from Sheb that he deemed too dangerous for even a common pirate to be in possession of and inquired where the Koorivar had picked it up, which led him to a very unpleasant Chiss man. Unfortunately, that unpleasant Chiss man had recognized Quinlan and now he was dead. Quinlan took the man’s ship and crossed its flight history with icy planets which led him to a near-abandoned space station in the Unknown Regions that was even seedier than Otor’s Hub. From there, he picked up a distress signal that led him to the nearest icy planet — Ilum.

He hadn’t been to Ilum in almost two decades — since chaperoning some cohort’s Gathering. It had been almost three decades since his own Gathering with Luminara, Obi-Wan, Stass Allie and Rig Nema. Yet, he found his way around quite well for the past two weeks.

Finding the source of the beacon, he set up a makeshift camp in the hangar of the downed _Hammerhead_ and called Obi-Wan. He figured if anyone was extensively injured — especially after being stranded on this icy tundra — they’d need intense care which led to the obvious choice of healing prodigy Barriss Offee. Of course that had been before he learned she was a crazy terrorist who had fallen to the dark side.

Quinlan sighed and looked over at the frozen body of Visas Marr.

“I’d ask what you’re looking at but you don’t have eyes,” he said softly. He chuckled quietly to himself.

He couldn’t exactly judge Barriss — well, yes he could. Quinlan had had his own brush with the dark side earlier in the war, but he had never even dreamed of attacking the Temple. He may have not been there often, but it was still his home.

Once he and Aayla had returned to his — the dead Chiss’ ship, a G9 Rigger freighter — docked in the hangar, he had called up the holocoverage of Barriss’ trial. A great deal of what she had said, he had to admit, was spot on. The Jedi weren’t what they used to be — or what they claimed to be. Though he wouldn’t exactly say they were an “army fighting for the dark side.” Most of the council had their sabers lodged so far up their asses, they would have noticed if they had gone over to the dark side.

Yet no one had noticed Barriss.

And that did trouble him.

If the picture perfect Padawan could fall...could become a terrorist and kill her brothers and sisters...than were any of them safe?

“Master Quinlan!”

Aayla.

He had almost forgotten she was here. Aayla had been Quinlan’s Padawan, but now was a fully fledged Jedi Knight — making Quinlan a very proud Master. They had spent much of the time since the war started apart. It was refreshing to work with her again. It gave Quinlan a sense of home.

“What is it, Aayla?” he called out. She had been sitting on the loading ramp, meditating.

“You’re going to want to see this yourself!” she yelled back.

Quinlan groaned and rose from his seat in the small med bay. “You won’t go anywhere will you?” he said to the frozen corpse. He shivered — surely because of the low temperature in the room to preserve the body and not because he was creeped out by his own brand of comedy — and grabbed his black overcoat from the cockpit before joining Aayla.

“What’s up?” he asked, still adjusting his coat while walking down the loading ramp.

“The Council…” Aayla began.

“—sends their regards,” a voice finished for her.

Quinlan finished descending the loading ramp and wished he’d never gotten out of bed that day.

Emerging from a T-6 Shuttle was the Cathar Jedi Master, Jaric Parker. One of the few beings in the galaxy Quinlan could say he absolutely despised. He didn’t _hate_ him, because that would be against the Code.

 _What a tragedy to go against the Code,_ he thought, a his eyebrows drawing together.

Jaric Parker was the Code. He was the perfect Jedi. That wasn’t even what irritated Quinlan — Luminara was almost perfectly the code. The Jedi weren’t chaste, though many of them chose to be celibate. Luminara didn’t. That was the only thing Jaric Parker had over her. In another life, Barriss would have been his biggest competition.

The white and black striped Cathar had been a shadow long before Quinlan had ever been interested in the field. Though he had been on “long term assignment” when Tholme stepped up to the head of intelligence — meaning even Tholme knew next to nothing about him. And Tholme knew everything.

Jaric Parker was an anomaly. A ghost, really. He would appear in the Temple from time to time to report to the council and then go back out on assignment. Always _classified_ missions that even Tholme didn’t have clearance to. And Thome had clearance to everything.

Perhaps it was his pride that felt especially endangered by Jaric Parker, but Quinlan generally felt uneasy with the man and always had. He wasn’t sure how long the average Cathar lifespan was, but Jaric Parker always appeared remarkably young for his supposed age — eighty three standard years.

Maybe that’s what being covered in hair did for an individual. It worked for the Wookiees. Quinlan preferred his hair mainly on his head.

“Master Vos,” the Cathar began, crossing the distance between their two ships. “And Padawan Secura.”

“That’s _Master_ Secura,” Quinlan corrected him. He was quite proud of his student’s assent to Masterhood despite not training an apprentice.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Master Parker,” Aayla asked, giving Quinlan a momentary glare.

“The Council has sent me to retrieve Master Kenobi. He is here with you, isn’t he?” Jaric Parker asked in a cool, purr-like voice.

“He is,” Quinlan said cautiously.

“And what is your mission here again?”

“ _Classified,_ ” Quinlan answered before Aayla could say anything.

“Why didn’t the Council simply contact us? They have all of our frequencies,” Aayla asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I assure you it is an urgent matter that requires his attention immediately. They could not take the risk of you not getting their message.”

“Message read loud and clear. We were just about to get underway,” Quinlan said. “Aayla, go start the the pre-flight check.”

She nodded and climbed the landing ramp of the freighter.

“You pride yourself on her Masterhood, yet you treat her like an apprentice,” the Cathar commented.

“I do not!” Quinlan snapped back.

“Careful, Master Vos. Pride can lead to the dark side.”

Quinlan was just about ready to use the dark side if it meant he didn’t have to stand here playing twenty questions with Jaric Parker all rotation. He eyed the Cathar’s saberstaff, swinging with the gentle, chilling breeze that blew by the hangar.

“I’m very familiar with the dark side, Master Parker. I know how to handle it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thank you for your message, we’ll see you back at the Temple on Coruscant.”

“Very well,” Jaric Parker said, returning back to his own ship.

_Thank the Force._

“Quin!” Obi-Wan called out.

_Kriff the Force._

Quinlan turned to face his friend who was coming back from the icy caverns of the ship’s passages.

“Ah Master Kenobi,” the Cathar purred.

Quinlan rolled his eyes and put his palm against his forehead. “Obi-Wan. I’m sure you’ve met the esteemed Master Jaric Parker, have you not?”

“It’s a pleasure, Master Parker,” Obi-Wan smiled. He was breathing hard, like he had been carrying something, and he was no longer wearing his off-white parka. His lower lip was cut and he had a miniscule shard of glass in his forehead,as well as a few in his beard — and his hair.

“What the hell happened to you?” Quinlan asked.

“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan said.

Quinlan raised a brow before seeing Luminara and Ana— _Sam_ — he’d have to get used to that — emerging from within the ship. Between them was someone wearing Obi-Wan’s parka.

_Oh._

“The pleasure is all mine, Master Kenobi,” the Cathar smiled. “I was just speaking with Master Vos about your mission here.”

“Which is classified,” Quinlan interjected, hoping Obi-Wan would get on board.

Jaric Parker ignored Quinlan and continued. “Master Kenobi I’ve come to fetch you over a matter concerning your former apprentice—”

“Anakin? What happened?” Obi-Wan cut him off, concern in his voice.

“Following an isolated incident on Kamino, I’m afraid a rogue ARC trooper under Skywalker's command attempted to kill the Chancellor .”

“An ARC trooper? I thought only Tup was effected on Ringo Vinda. This can’t be good...we’ll get underway. Thank you Master Parker, we shall see you back at the Temple.”

The Cathar nodded, gave a slight bow and began to turn away.

Quinlan sighed in relief. The Cathar was leaving. Finally, he thought. Now I can ask—

“I’m curious—”

_Kriff you, Jaric. Kriff you right to Malachor._

“—who is the one in the parka?” Master Parker asked, his gaze fixed on Luminara and Sam who were still struggling to help whoever it was over to the ship.

“Classified,” Quinlan said quickly, stepping between Parker and the two Jedi.

Obi-Wan shot him a disapproving look.

“I see,” the Cathar purred. “Very well. Goodbye Master Kenobi. Vos,” the Cathar bowed respectfully and made his way over to his own shuttle.

Quinlan and Obi-Wan watched the Cathar’s shuttle take off as Luminara and Sam loaded the parka-guy — who, at close range, Quinlan could identify as human and not wearing pants — onto the G9.

“Care to explain what all that was about, Quin?” Obi-Wan asked, raising a curious brow.

“Never liked that Cathar. And the Council doesn’t even know about this mission, Obi-Wan. I contacted you directly...he shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have known we were here,” Quinlan explained.

“I did mention it to Eeth Koth before I left. Sorry.”

“It’s not you that I’m upset with. It’s the fact that he was just here out of the blue with some story about a rogue clone and Skywalker? Not to mention, that distress signal we were receiving before? Gone. Never found a transmitter, the signal just disappeared. It’s all suspicious to me.”

“Quin, not every Jedi has an ulterior motive. Calm down,” Obi-Wan advised.

_Barriss did…_

He dismissed the thought and sighed as they climbed into the freighter.

“Master Quinlan and I will drop you off at your cruiser and then we’ll wait to leave the surface with you. Then we’ll all make the jump to Coruscant…” Aayla said over the intercom.

As the loading ramp closed, Quinlan caught Obi-Wan’s arm. “Mind telling me about your friend you picked up in there?”

Obi-Wan motioned away from the direction of the occupied sections of the ship.

Quinlan shrugged off his overcoat as Obi-Wan led them to the crew quarters of the ship.

“You know just about everything I do,” Obi-Wan explained.

“I don’t know anything,” Quinlan reminded him.

“Well,” Obi-Wan started, lowering himself onto a cot. “He’s a Jedi from the time of the Jedi Civil War. We found him in a kolto tank—”

“And he’s still alive?”

“I wasn’t finished,” Obi-Wan scolded.

“Sorry,” Quinlan said softly, leaning up against the bulkhead.

The ship jolted slightly as they took off.

“Someone had been routinely visiting this vessel over generations and was transforming the life energy from other Jedi into this boy. Probably something similar to the technique Anakin used to bring Ahsoka back to life on Mortis.”

Quinlan shivered. This time not because of the temperature. Everything Obi-Wan had told him about Mortis made him shiver. But if it was occurring outside of that realm...

“But Anakin is the _Chosen One_ after all.” Not that Quinlan especially believed in prophecy, but he liked to believe that beings forged their own destinies. However, there had to be some logic to this puzzle. “That hardly sounds like something any credit-a-dozen Jedi could do. Even the Sith...” Quinlan furrowed his brow. “You think it’s the Sith. But is that something Dooku could do? Maul?”

Quinlan had seen quite a few amazing feats of the Force in his time, but nothing like this. Nothing that kept a human in suspended animation for thousands of years.

“I don’t know my friend. We’ll take him back to the temple hospital wing and tell the Council,” Obi-Wan said.

“Are you sure that’s wise? They may want to simply kill him to cut their losses.”

“I doubt they will want to kill him, he is Jedi after all,” Obi-Wan determined.

Jedi don’t kill their own.

 _Except terrorists,_ Quinlan thought.

“Or so we believe,” he reminded Obi-Wan that they knew next to nothing about this young man.

“Or so we believe,” Obi-Wan confirmed.

Quinlan groaned and pushed Obi-Wan to the side so that he could lay on the cot beside him.

This was not what he had signed up for.

Obi-Wan’s hand found his own and he interlaced their fingers together. They hadn’t done this since the war began. Three years…

...Had it really been that long?

He felt the scruff of Obi-Wan’s beard on his neck eliciting an involuntary chuckle. Obi-Wan’s free hand splayed itself on Quinlan’s chest, though he could feel Obi-Wan’s hesitation through the Force. That fresh wound of loss. Something Obi-Wan had become very good at obtaining, and very good at hiding his feelings on the matter.

Qui-Gon.

Siri.

Satine.

Ahsoka.

Quinlan decided to move away from the prospect of intimacy...he knew Obi-Wan was in no way prepared for it. Perhaps after they were back at the Temple — where it was safe.

_Except from terrorists._

“Hey, did you catch the kid’s name?” Quinlan asked, his mind drifting to the young boy in the next cabin over.

He saw the color begin to drain from Obi-Wan’s face. His red hair becoming very pronounced.

“What? That bad? What is he Revan’s kid or something?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the hold-up chief?” Quinlan joked as he lightly tapped Obi-Wan’s side with his fist.

“Surik. Atton Surik.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "rogue ARC trooper" and the Battle of Ringo Vinda is from The Clone Wars season 6, episode 1.  
> Quinlan's mission is a bit of a spoiler from the upcoming novel Dark Disciple by Christie Golden which you can read the first few chapters of here: http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/7868/dark-disciple-star-wars-by-christie-golden/


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